It’s funny how often I hear an artist say something like, “I wish I could stop being an artist, but it’s not possible…” Less funny is how often I feel this way myself. No matter how difficult it gets to simply keep making art in the midst of my busy, city life, there’s always a sense that I must continue to tell stories in song, film or on stage. I can’t throw aside the activity of developing characters or interpreting the dance of lyrics and melody anymore than I can stop eating, sleeping or breathing. Giving in to the fact of my particularity as an artist is both freeing and costly. Freeing, because I can immediately begin to joyfully explore and share my gifts; but costly because a life spent as an artist will ultimately require self-sacrifice in one way or another. Joy and sacrifice, freedom and great cost: these experiences are common to artists, but also to those who would follow Jesus with all their heart.
I love the story in John 12 of the radical and artful gift given to Jesus by Lazarus' sister, Mary. About a week before Jesus would be crucified He attends a dinner party with His friends (one of whom, Lazarus, Jesus had raised from the dead). At some point during the evening, Mary honors Jesus with a radically sacrificial and intimate gift by pouring out a year’s earnings worth of spiked nard (a costly perfume oil) on the feet of Jesus and completing her presentation by wiping His feet with her hair. No doubt, a hush fell over the room as the smell of the fragrance filled the house and Mary stood silent, her hair still wet with perfume. Mary’s gift was radical, sensual and even scandalous in her cultural setting.
In all accounts of this story, the first to speak were the disciples, scolding Mary for wasting the nard which could have been put to some practical use like feeding the poor. But Jesus receives the gift with heartfelt and solemn gratitude. For Him, Mary's gift came just in time. It was just the encouragement and solidarity He needed as He faced the reality of His own impending act of sacrifice. Mary's gift resonated both emotionally, spiritually and prophetically for Jesus, a comfort He would not receive from His sleeping disciples in Gethsemane. Despite the cost to herself or her reputation, despite her fear, Mary offered the gift she'd prepared, in all it's particularity, and it did not disappoint.
The gifts of the artist and their expression, worked out through obedience and faithfulness, are meant to bring healing and wisdom to the community of faith, to the neighborhood and to culture at large. The process of making art requires something of us. We must give ourselves over to the process in which we allow the art to be expressed. As Madeline L’Engle reminds us, art is incarnational, it impregnates us. Therefore, creation can become like a kind of sacrament, a sign of present grace and future glory. It is an act of worship on the part of the individual artist. Yet, in community, this sacramental act can be prophetic, making Divine truth newly apparent. This is the mysterious and essential work of the Holy Spirit, filling the house with the fragrance of our offerings. May it also fill our lives, our communities, and our cities.
Kenyon
Showing posts with label community. Show all posts
Showing posts with label community. Show all posts
Friday, November 12, 2010
Friday, September 24, 2010
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
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
Wednesday, September 8, 2010
Gold Rush!
Before I moved to
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
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
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Don't Go It Alone
One of the most glaring realities facing artists in the city is a sense of sheer isolation: a feeling of not being known or truly knowing others. In an increasingly post-Christian, urban, social context, the need for Christian community in the lives of artists is greater than ever. This growing reality presents a prime opportunity for reconciliation between artists in the city and the urban church.
As artists who belong to Christ, we are also meant to belong to mutually nurturing, Christ-centered community sharing fellowship, accountability and discipleship. We cannot realize God’s calling on our lives living autonomously, outside of the community of faith. Because our expression is divinely inspired, artistic growth is intrinsically tied to our spiritual growth and maturity. In reality, there is no separation between vocational life and devotional life. Reality is, however, easiest to avoid while living outside of Gospel-centered community. The Holy Spirit works wherever He wants, but He works especially through community to grow and change us as we pursue faithfulness in our vocational callings. This process is enabled as we commit ourselves to group of Christians with whom we can share the journey, knowing and being known by them, understanding that our best and worst cannot make us right with God or each other, only dependence on Christ and a deep sense of God’s love for us because of Christ.
Reborn artists in the city often find a natural camaraderie in their professional and collaborative circles (or in some cases, at their night job) which becomes their primary source of community and, consequently, their identity. As a result of this, many of these artists find themselves adapting the pluralistic ideologies of secular humanism instead of integrating a biblical worldview into their lives through a gospel-conversant community of believers. This life construct offers them little or no concept of how, or even why, they might explore deeper inflections of the gospel in their vocational lives. Though it is true that few, if any, Christian communities can claim to be experts on how to biblically and thoughtfully inflect the Christian worldview in vocational artistic practice, a helpful dialogue may be sustained in community which will lead to shared insights, practices, and ways of thinking, doing and being in the arts. Without being linked to the gospel narrative through a community of believers, even the most gifted and thoughtful Christian artist may be tempted to imagine that the gospel is somehow automatically infused into their vocational lives without exposure to the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit through intentional Christian community. These may have a view of sin, that of the world and in themselves, which is unrealistically light and narrow.
The church is certainly not the only community in the city offering a brand of righteousness to its members. It’s very possible to find one’s identity and justification in other communities. This poses a serious threat to the spiritual health of Christian artists in the city in particular. In very few places in the world can one find the variety of scenarios in which to justify oneself and discover alternative brands of righteousness, than can be found in the city. To navigate this, a reborn artist must be living in mutually transparent, gospel-centered community, finding herself in the story of the narrative which begins and ends with Christ.
So we see that this problem of isolation and autonomy may perpetuate a general atrophy of spiritual growth and theological soundness, causing many artist’s lives to be increasingly dualistic and making an integrated approach to Christian life nearly impossible. As I once heard a theater agent say, “If you live a cut-off [dualistic] life, then you will be a cut-off actor!” The reborn artist cannot thrive or effectively pursue her calling in a vacuum. An artist’s life and expression are meant to be shared and upheld in community.
-Kenyon
As artists who belong to Christ, we are also meant to belong to mutually nurturing, Christ-centered community sharing fellowship, accountability and discipleship. We cannot realize God’s calling on our lives living autonomously, outside of the community of faith. Because our expression is divinely inspired, artistic growth is intrinsically tied to our spiritual growth and maturity. In reality, there is no separation between vocational life and devotional life. Reality is, however, easiest to avoid while living outside of Gospel-centered community. The Holy Spirit works wherever He wants, but He works especially through community to grow and change us as we pursue faithfulness in our vocational callings. This process is enabled as we commit ourselves to group of Christians with whom we can share the journey, knowing and being known by them, understanding that our best and worst cannot make us right with God or each other, only dependence on Christ and a deep sense of God’s love for us because of Christ.
Reborn artists in the city often find a natural camaraderie in their professional and collaborative circles (or in some cases, at their night job) which becomes their primary source of community and, consequently, their identity. As a result of this, many of these artists find themselves adapting the pluralistic ideologies of secular humanism instead of integrating a biblical worldview into their lives through a gospel-conversant community of believers. This life construct offers them little or no concept of how, or even why, they might explore deeper inflections of the gospel in their vocational lives. Though it is true that few, if any, Christian communities can claim to be experts on how to biblically and thoughtfully inflect the Christian worldview in vocational artistic practice, a helpful dialogue may be sustained in community which will lead to shared insights, practices, and ways of thinking, doing and being in the arts. Without being linked to the gospel narrative through a community of believers, even the most gifted and thoughtful Christian artist may be tempted to imagine that the gospel is somehow automatically infused into their vocational lives without exposure to the sanctifying work of the Holy Spirit through intentional Christian community. These may have a view of sin, that of the world and in themselves, which is unrealistically light and narrow.
The church is certainly not the only community in the city offering a brand of righteousness to its members. It’s very possible to find one’s identity and justification in other communities. This poses a serious threat to the spiritual health of Christian artists in the city in particular. In very few places in the world can one find the variety of scenarios in which to justify oneself and discover alternative brands of righteousness, than can be found in the city. To navigate this, a reborn artist must be living in mutually transparent, gospel-centered community, finding herself in the story of the narrative which begins and ends with Christ.
So we see that this problem of isolation and autonomy may perpetuate a general atrophy of spiritual growth and theological soundness, causing many artist’s lives to be increasingly dualistic and making an integrated approach to Christian life nearly impossible. As I once heard a theater agent say, “If you live a cut-off [dualistic] life, then you will be a cut-off actor!” The reborn artist cannot thrive or effectively pursue her calling in a vacuum. An artist’s life and expression are meant to be shared and upheld in community.
-Kenyon
Tuesday, January 19, 2010
The Dancing Life
We named our dance performance project Perichoresis. Even though no one could pronounce it, we thought it was a really great name. Maria – our resident theologian (she’ll correct me and say “seminarian”) – used the term one day, and I had no idea what it meant. But I like playing with where words come from and how that influences the nuances of their meaning. So, I started looking:
peri- means “around,” as in peri-meter, peri-scope, etc.
chor- means “dance,” as in chor-eography, from the Greek chorea, which also gives us “chorus,” reminding us that, in Greek theater, the chorus danced as well as chanted or sang.
-esis, is a suffix that makes a word about action or process.
The word perichoresis means, in Greek, “to dance around.”
But the really interesting use of “perichoresis” is theological – it’s used to describe the relationship of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Wikipedia says it “refers to the mutual inter-penetration and indwelling within the threefold nature of the Trinity” – but I much prefer the image of God, Jesus, and the Spirit dancing around all day. Their enjoyment of one another is expressed through movement, and rhythm, and harmony; and their presence in our world and in our lives grows out of that creative act. [Note: some scholars state that the theological term "perichoresis" relates to a different Greek root word that emphasizes the "unity" of the Trinity, and doesn't relate to dancing. I think that's boring and choose to disregard it. :-) -lj]
I think we have an image of God the Creator as a sculptor (he created us from clay) or as a director (he sets situations in motion and shapes them as they unfold). But maybe he’s also a choreographer and, in making us in his image, wants us dancing too.
Isn’t life in community a dance? We have to rehearse a lot to get everyone in the right place and on the same steps. We bump into each other and step on toes. But, when we get it right…it’s gorgeous.
Shall we dance?
--Luann
peri- means “around,” as in peri-meter, peri-scope, etc.
chor- means “dance,” as in chor-eography, from the Greek chorea, which also gives us “chorus,” reminding us that, in Greek theater, the chorus danced as well as chanted or sang.
-esis, is a suffix that makes a word about action or process.
The word perichoresis means, in Greek, “to dance around.”
But the really interesting use of “perichoresis” is theological – it’s used to describe the relationship of the Father, Son and Holy Spirit. Wikipedia says it “refers to the mutual inter-penetration and indwelling within the threefold nature of the Trinity” – but I much prefer the image of God, Jesus, and the Spirit dancing around all day. Their enjoyment of one another is expressed through movement, and rhythm, and harmony; and their presence in our world and in our lives grows out of that creative act. [Note: some scholars state that the theological term "perichoresis" relates to a different Greek root word that emphasizes the "unity" of the Trinity, and doesn't relate to dancing. I think that's boring and choose to disregard it. :-) -lj]
I think we have an image of God the Creator as a sculptor (he created us from clay) or as a director (he sets situations in motion and shapes them as they unfold). But maybe he’s also a choreographer and, in making us in his image, wants us dancing too.
Isn’t life in community a dance? We have to rehearse a lot to get everyone in the right place and on the same steps. We bump into each other and step on toes. But, when we get it right…it’s gorgeous.
Shall we dance?
--Luann
Tuesday, January 12, 2010
The Greatest Commandment
Some time ago, in conversation with a friend, she claimed that in order to have the capacity to love others well one must know one’s self. I argued the opposite. One couldn’t possibly love the self fully without knowing others. Knowing the other makes clear the boundaries that exist, which force us to identify what we are not, thereby imparting what makes us tick. My intent here is not to prove my friend wrong: while our emphases are considerably different we both understand knowing and loving happen in relationships. In Mark 12:30 Jesus summed up God’s commandments as such. “Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength.” And “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Loving self, loving neighbor, comes by way of loving God. The ten commandments are therefore gracious. They seemingly restrict our being by setting boundaries, but these boundaries help us to know what we are (or what we are not) while simultaneously giving us insight into loving and knowing God, self, and others. The law does not rob us of particularity, it protects and honors what makes us particular and offers us a way to care for others.
Jonathan Magonet in A Rabbi Reads the Bible understands God’s commandments in terms of relationships. In Hebrew to have “no other gods before me” uses language similar to an intimate marriage contract. (p. 201) Magonet points out the biblical and Rabbinic terminology for the commandments is the Ten Words. Instead of a list of prohibitions it carries a more relational sense—“you could not possibly wish to do any of these things” because personal relationship promotes “internal, volunteering policing.” (p. 194) When do we break one of the ten commandments? When we are not in true community. We fall into sin when knowledge of God and others becomes an extension of ourselves.
I’ll be married 25 years this April. The roughest points in our marriage have been when my husband becomes an extension of my own desires, fears, and insecurities. Sometimes I can’t hear, believe, or accept his love for me. I also won’t ask him for help (after all I created him in my image therefore he already knows what needs to be done). I take away his personhood by not honoring the choice he made to enter a contract that entailed loving and caring for me. I violate the community of our marriage when I don’t allow myself to depend on or grow through him.
In the same way many artists understand their work as extensions of themselves. Christian artists forget they have entered into a relational contract with God. God in turn set us in community. Our work does not necessarily comes from us or belong to us—they are not solely extensions of who we are but also of the relationships and communities we come from. In his article, “Tradition and the Individual Talent,” T.S. Eliot goes so far as to state that poetry “is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not an expression of personality, but an escape from personality.” For Elliot the artist forgoes individuality, “surrendering himself wholly to the work to be done.”
Our work grows out of community. Not only does the community feed and strengthen our creative disciplines, but ultimately our work is a gift stemming from our relationship with God. Through God’s own being as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit we are given the ability to live and create in community. Our work is to be a regenerative force that continually bears fruit, not just in us, but also in those around us. This is why when I visit a friend’s studio I am eager to get back home and paint. My friend’s work becomes the best critique of my own, forcing me in new directions or helping incarnate my thoughts and ideas in a fuller sense.
While it is true that God and his commandments help “determine the stability of society,” (Magonet, p. 196) they point to something beyond the ethical. Within the commandments there is disclosure not only of God and his desires but also of clues towards humanity’s wholeness. Our God is a relational God and has made us to be relational beings. Like any creative endeavor relationship building is difficult. We must continually die to self for God to reinforce our particularity—our truer sense of being and our place in community. When we create we must remember how valuable our endeavors are, for they come through, in, and for community. Let us then love the Lord with all of our heart, soul, mind, and strength. Amen.
-Maria
Jonathan Magonet in A Rabbi Reads the Bible understands God’s commandments in terms of relationships. In Hebrew to have “no other gods before me” uses language similar to an intimate marriage contract. (p. 201) Magonet points out the biblical and Rabbinic terminology for the commandments is the Ten Words. Instead of a list of prohibitions it carries a more relational sense—“you could not possibly wish to do any of these things” because personal relationship promotes “internal, volunteering policing.” (p. 194) When do we break one of the ten commandments? When we are not in true community. We fall into sin when knowledge of God and others becomes an extension of ourselves.
I’ll be married 25 years this April. The roughest points in our marriage have been when my husband becomes an extension of my own desires, fears, and insecurities. Sometimes I can’t hear, believe, or accept his love for me. I also won’t ask him for help (after all I created him in my image therefore he already knows what needs to be done). I take away his personhood by not honoring the choice he made to enter a contract that entailed loving and caring for me. I violate the community of our marriage when I don’t allow myself to depend on or grow through him.
In the same way many artists understand their work as extensions of themselves. Christian artists forget they have entered into a relational contract with God. God in turn set us in community. Our work does not necessarily comes from us or belong to us—they are not solely extensions of who we are but also of the relationships and communities we come from. In his article, “Tradition and the Individual Talent,” T.S. Eliot goes so far as to state that poetry “is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not an expression of personality, but an escape from personality.” For Elliot the artist forgoes individuality, “surrendering himself wholly to the work to be done.”
Our work grows out of community. Not only does the community feed and strengthen our creative disciplines, but ultimately our work is a gift stemming from our relationship with God. Through God’s own being as Father, Son, and Holy Spirit we are given the ability to live and create in community. Our work is to be a regenerative force that continually bears fruit, not just in us, but also in those around us. This is why when I visit a friend’s studio I am eager to get back home and paint. My friend’s work becomes the best critique of my own, forcing me in new directions or helping incarnate my thoughts and ideas in a fuller sense.
While it is true that God and his commandments help “determine the stability of society,” (Magonet, p. 196) they point to something beyond the ethical. Within the commandments there is disclosure not only of God and his desires but also of clues towards humanity’s wholeness. Our God is a relational God and has made us to be relational beings. Like any creative endeavor relationship building is difficult. We must continually die to self for God to reinforce our particularity—our truer sense of being and our place in community. When we create we must remember how valuable our endeavors are, for they come through, in, and for community. Let us then love the Lord with all of our heart, soul, mind, and strength. Amen.
-Maria
Saturday, January 2, 2010
Welcome - be known!
Hi, everyone. Welcome to our new blog, where we (Maria, Kenyon, and I, plus others) will be sharing each week about what we're reading, thinking about and working on at the intersection of art and faith.
In 2010 we're launching a new campaign (of which this blog is part) to help communicate the philosophy behind our ministry: Create/Be Known/Engage. These are the three things we want everyone to do - create to the glory of God, know and be known by Him and His people, and engage with the culture around us to be part of His renewing work. Pick up "Create" and "Be Known" postcards on the information tables at worship services, and you'll find an "Engage" flyer for Arts Month (February!) in your January 17 worship service bulletins and on info tables then. You can check out all of the upcoming Arts Month activities now here.
But in January, we're really focusing on "being known" - growing in knowledge of God and in our relationship with him and one another in the Body of Christ. InterArts Fellowship this month will be on the topic, and all of the vocation group gatherings will also be focusing on it.
Since we're thinking about community this month, I want to suggest an article published by our denomination's (Presbyterian Church in America) online magazine, byFaith. "Created for Community" is a great article by Paul Tripp, author of many respected books on counseling from a Christian perspective. (He is also a painter, and his wife, Luella Tripp, is an art gallery operator and has spoken on her work in the arts at Redeemer's Entrepreneurship Forum.)
Tripp talks about the importance of community, about how we are created for it and need it, but that our sin nature fights against it, particularly through two "seductive lies": first, that we are autonomous, and second, that we are self-sufficient. These lies "push us toward individualistic and and private lifestyles." He writes:
"We do tend to live with big barriers between our public personas and our private lives. We do tend to live in networks of terminally casual relationships. Most of the people we think we know we don’t actually know. Yes, we know things about them, but would probably be shocked if we knew the struggles that regularly take place in the interior of their lives. Most of what we call fellowship is not fellowship at all. It is surface talk about things that don’t matter that allows us to maintain our privacy. So the couple who has been fighting on the way to church hits the front door with a smile, the mother who is frazzled takes a few minutes to get herself together. And when we arrive for public worship, nobody tells, nobody knows, and nobody helps."
Ouch. Can we commit together to trying to do better?
Check out the article, it's really good.
We'll be thinking more about "being known" this month, check back.
With hopes for His blessings on your life and your work in 2010...
--Luann
In 2010 we're launching a new campaign (of which this blog is part) to help communicate the philosophy behind our ministry: Create/Be Known/Engage. These are the three things we want everyone to do - create to the glory of God, know and be known by Him and His people, and engage with the culture around us to be part of His renewing work. Pick up "Create" and "Be Known" postcards on the information tables at worship services, and you'll find an "Engage" flyer for Arts Month (February!) in your January 17 worship service bulletins and on info tables then. You can check out all of the upcoming Arts Month activities now here.
But in January, we're really focusing on "being known" - growing in knowledge of God and in our relationship with him and one another in the Body of Christ. InterArts Fellowship this month will be on the topic, and all of the vocation group gatherings will also be focusing on it.
Since we're thinking about community this month, I want to suggest an article published by our denomination's (Presbyterian Church in America) online magazine, byFaith. "Created for Community" is a great article by Paul Tripp, author of many respected books on counseling from a Christian perspective. (He is also a painter, and his wife, Luella Tripp, is an art gallery operator and has spoken on her work in the arts at Redeemer's Entrepreneurship Forum.)
Tripp talks about the importance of community, about how we are created for it and need it, but that our sin nature fights against it, particularly through two "seductive lies": first, that we are autonomous, and second, that we are self-sufficient. These lies "push us toward individualistic and and private lifestyles." He writes:
"We do tend to live with big barriers between our public personas and our private lives. We do tend to live in networks of terminally casual relationships. Most of the people we think we know we don’t actually know. Yes, we know things about them, but would probably be shocked if we knew the struggles that regularly take place in the interior of their lives. Most of what we call fellowship is not fellowship at all. It is surface talk about things that don’t matter that allows us to maintain our privacy. So the couple who has been fighting on the way to church hits the front door with a smile, the mother who is frazzled takes a few minutes to get herself together. And when we arrive for public worship, nobody tells, nobody knows, and nobody helps."
Ouch. Can we commit together to trying to do better?
Check out the article, it's really good.
We'll be thinking more about "being known" this month, check back.
With hopes for His blessings on your life and your work in 2010...
--Luann
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