Longing And The Spirit Life

Fresh Pair of Eyes

'Cause I want to be seen
With a fresh pair of eyes
The single white tree
In a black hood of disguise

I want, I want to be seen
With a fresh pair of eyes
The single, the single white tree
In a black hood of disguise

I miss God, I miss God
I miss God, I miss God

-Brooke Waggoner

Longing is one of the visceral affects induced by Wim Wenders’ film Pina. Pina Bausch’s choreography beautifully, and at times with forceful asperity, depicts the body reaching for what lies beyond. Leaving the theater one cannot help but address our hollowness set beside such hallow-ness.

I miss God, I miss God
I miss God, I miss God

The songstress, Brooke Waggoner, also elicits yearning. Longing comes from diagnosing what we miss. Like the Psalmist, we need to voice our apprehensions acknowledging God all the while. To be spiritual means to live and work in the realm of the Spirit—God’s own presence in the world. Through Jesus we are given the Spirit in order to grasp God’s holiness and righteousness. This happen in spite of how we live in the mire of our own muck. When we receive mercy, we know God is near.

The Spirit gives us “a fresh pair of eyes” to enable true relationship with the triune God, with others, and with the physical world. Steven Guthrie relates how “Apart from God’s Spirit, we sink further away from our humanity.” (Guthrie, Creator Spirit, p.36) According to Guthrie this is why the Spirit allows us to see God through artists like Pina Bausch who is able to trace and recover genuine human movement. God’s Spirit does not de-humanize, instead it reorders and transforms our human desires so that we may see Him. In fact, it is because of Jesus’ humanness the Spirit can reveal what has been missed under sin’s "black hood of disguise."

The Spirit life, therefore, is a life dependent on our triune God. Our work must be handed over to Christ’s renewing love that reconciles all things. Cultural renewal comes out of Spiritual restoration. Perhaps Ms. Waggoner also comes to this realization when she croons in her song Wonder-Dummied how “I tried my best alone but it got me nowhere and I can’t do it on my own.” True longing erupts in God’s accepting presence for we finally sense our own inadequacies, “Oh to be of the purest of pure in his arms,” Ms. Waggoner aches:

But I’ve never felt this feel so heavy
And I’ve never felt this feel so low
Yeah it is a wake inside my whole soul
But you are my strength I won’t stand alone

The Christian artist works in the medium of painful longing for we are given the Spirit who directs us ahead to what should be, what can be, what will be. This is why Colin Gunton understands the Spirit’s action as eschatological. The Spirit works to perfect “the particulars by relating them to their source and destiny.” (Gunton, The One, The Three, And The Many, p. 212). Let us not be overwhelmed by the heaviness of longing, but relate it back to its source and destiny for ultimately it is God we seek.

Please join us at InterArts Fellowship on April 16^th when Brooke Waggoner, along with William Edgar, will help us to further examine the Spirit Life.

--Maria

The Dialogue Continues

A friend of mine tells a story of a woman he loved and lost to a terminal illness. He recalls how he strove to make her last days so full of life. She dreamed of going to Italy, and because it was clear she would never make it there he transformed her hospital bedroom into a living Italian montage complete with a gondola! He painted the walls with scenes from Venice, Rome and Florence...all to make her feel full of life. He went on to recall being by her side as she lay dying. Offering him some of her last words, she passionately whispered, "He is Life!"

Scripture tells that He who has the son, has life (1 John 5:12). If there's one thing we are seeking in New York City it's this sense of really living: to have Life. Artists especially depend on this over- abundant sense of being alive to both suffering and joy.

Last fall we began considering six themes regarding the calling of the artist in view of the gospel. Now, as we start a new ministry year, we invite you to consider one over-arching theme which we will approach this coming Monday at InterArts Fellowship with the help of Steve Garber. The theme is simply Life, capital "L". We intend to explore this theme in four ways:

Abundant LIFE

Body LIFE

Spirit LIFE

Eternal LIFE

Through our programs, events and conversations with you we hope to explore the reality of abundance, the imminence and import of life in the body, the mystery of the spirit and the hope of eternity. Join the dialogue through quarterly gatherings of InterArts Fellowship, in Arts Vocation Groups and on our InterArts Facebook page.

Hope to see you soon. Take care in the city!

Kenyon

The Reality of Abundance

On the table of pine

Stood a tiny Bowl of Blackberries (click to listen)

You poured into it the whitest cream.

In the corner her tail

Wrapped around her tiny body

As herself she did softly clean.

Outside on the lawn

Gently blowing the linen

Almost as if it were a dream.

And in the porcelain sink

My sorrows deep.

Pulled the drain and

I sent them out to sea.

My only wish,

For this.

My only wish,

For more of this

by Jonny Rodgers. See it live at the next InterArts.

Something in Jonny Rodgers depiction of that tiny bowl of blackberries served with cream on a picnic table re-affirms for me a sense of the reality of Abundance. There is a place or person somewhere in the universe that truly fulfills the last aching abyss of the human heart. It is only a sense in my deepest heart of hearts, but could there be some validity to this feeling?

Everything in our culture seems to operate at a deficit, home loans, car loans, student loans, national debt....Yet our individual hopes and desires perhaps are running the highest deficit of all. I look at hundreds of faces each day riding the subways. I look at my own face reflected on my desktop as I write. Contentment seems even more elusive today than the large, dark creature I thought I saw while peering intently into the waters of Loch Ness at age sixteen.

When C.S. Lewis refers to our having desires which cannot be satisfied in this life, he hardly seems to paint a picture of Abundance. He does however conclude that we must, then, be made in fact for another world, suggesting the afterlife which is central to the Christian belief in resurrection. Still, it is difficult in the midst of our longings to find comfort merely in the hope of a life to come. Don’t you agree?

The Police, in their harrowing anthem Spirits in the Material World make a similar observation to Lewis’ but arrive at quite a different conclusion. Where does the answer lie, living from day to day? If it’s something we can’t buy, there must be another way. We are spirits in the material world. The answer for Sting seems to be a realization that life in the body is somehow of less consequence than a disembodied life would be. The song gives me a sense of needing to escape my body, a sentiment which was so heart-wrenchingly expressed by the character Evan in Justin Lerner’s recent New York film premiere, Girlfriend. Actor Evan Sneider delivers a stealth performance as a young man with Down’s syndrome who falls in love with a beautiful and troubled single mother in a rural suburb. For Evan, being in his physical body seemed to keep him from his desire for romantic love. Rocking out at my desk to The Police performing this incredibly virile song leaves me with a feeling that we’d all be better off if we could only escape our bodies and live a purely ephemeral, spiritual life. It’s little wonder that the opening lines to the song decry contemporary efforts to reform society or the human condition. Why engage in politics, religion or even relationships if there's no real hope?Indeed, there must be another way.

Being a song-writer and a follower of Christ I am trying to understand the tension between recognizing the brokenness in my own heart and life, and allowing that brokenness to take over my view of myself and the world. If it weren’t for my pain, I wouldn’t have much to share with others. On the other hand, I also have this notion in my gut, having met the resurrected shepherd, that even the darkest night will one day be a distant memory in the face of such beauty as He possesses and which He will one day restore to all things. Living in this hope means loving Abundance: loving the world while regarding only one thing as most precious. That thing is a person, whose mystery is enough to tickle the laughing/crying soft flesh of our longing. Yet, He is master enough to restore all things. The reality of Abundance stares us back in the face through the eyes of this mysterious and masterful person. In holding him dear, all things become dearer to me.

Kenyon

Exploding Destiny

When Christ, Who is Your life, appears, then you will also appear with Him in glory -Colossians 3:4

I love what some of the great theologians have said about Paul’s radical claims of hope for our lives and destiny in view of the gospel. Reflecting on Colossians 3:4 John Calvin writes, Here we have a choice consolation -- that the coming of Christ will be the manifestation of our life. John Wesley, the great Methodist theologian, sounds almost astonished as he writes,The abruptness of the sentence surrounds us with sudden light. Our life - The fountain of holiness and glory. Shall appear - In the clouds of heaven. Wesley seems to echo Christ’s own words in John 7:38 when He winsomely remarks, Whoever believes in me, streams of living water will flow out of him. What could Jesus possibly mean when he says that if we believe in Him we will become some kind of spring or fountain of life?

In George C. Wolfe’s play The Colored Museum, Junie Robinson, known as The Soldier with a Secret, attempts to describe the look on a dying man’s face. He says, All the hurtin’ that was gonna get done to em and that they was gonna do to other people was right there clear as day…but when He died, all that hurtin to come just left his face…He finishes the eerie soliloquy by speaking directly to the audience with a whisper: I know the secret to your pain.

What George C. Wolfe is hinting at in this vignette is that the only way to be free of all of the brokenness of this world is through death. And he’s right. But Paul in Colossians 3 says that if you believe in Jesus and the hope of the gospel then you are already dead to this world and you have a life that is being kept safe for you with God. Colossians 3 shows us that Christ is the source of all the good that will ever come from your life or that you will ever taste in this life, though for now it is only a taste. Haggai 2:7 calls Him the desire of nations. In the Psalms King David sings, As the dear pants for water so my soul pants for you… and …My body longs for you in a dry and weary land where there is no water. David realized that all of his greatest desires in life were actually longings for Christ Himself.

As artists, we are fortunate to taste Christ’s beauty and glory in relatively small portions here and there through making and enjoying good art. But the hope of the gospel is that if you believe in Christ, then one day not only will pain and death have no power over you, not only will you be in the presence of the source of all goodness, but you yourself will become a source of the ultimate light and glory. At once, in His presence, all our longing for Him will be so overwhelmingly satisfied that we ourselves will burst forth in an explosion of New Life, a detonation of generative potential.

How can we as artists live and work in view of this great hope? Can we, through the power of the gospel, create flares and bursts of the coming explosion when we will be made new? God hasn’t given up you or your art, He intends to make you more prolific than you can imagine…In the gospel, you have an exploding destiny.

Kenyon

Terroir

One of the things I love about wine is its ability to express the essence of a particular place. Within the tiny orb of a grape is the potential to offer complex flavors and aromas which, when given time and great care, seem to re-imagine the world in which it was grown. The relationship between human beings and the soil beneath our feet can be delicately examined and enjoyed in a glass of wine. Yet, as with so many treasures of the earth, the grape must be carefully cultivated in order to unlock its artful articulation of place. In Genesis 2, God planted a Garden in Eden for Adam and Eve to care for, and God placed gold and other precious metals beneath the soil near the garden as a surprise, it seems, for them to discover, cultivate and enjoy.

And the gold of that land was pure, aromatic resin and onyx stone are also found there (Genesis 2 NLT)

French winemakers are particularly concerned with the authentic expression a wine offers the world in regards to the place it was cultivated. The word they use to describe it is terroir (pronounced ter-wah). Technically, terroir refers to the dirt or the terrain on which one might grow wine. But a winemaker understands terroir as the comprehensive description of a vineyard’s growing conditions, including elements in the soil and exposure to frost or sunlight. All of these elements and more are summed up in terroir. It is the essence, even flavor, of a piece of land. Hidden in the grape is the power to reveal terroir.

Inspired by the French tradition of preserving terroir, winemakers around the world are working to discover the essence of their particular terrains, and proudly invite the world to experience the beauty and potential of their region. Wine is being cultivated under some of the harshest growing conditions imaginable, agriculturally and otherwise. South Africa, Israel and Turkey are all producing distinctive wines. Wine regions are springing up all over the U.S. in some unlikely places including Texas, and the Arizona desert. God in His perfect love and wisdom so endowed His creation with treasure that each region has the potential to produce distinctly beautiful sense experiences, celebrating the glory of the Creator.

I am the True Vine and my Father is the vinedresser…I am the vine and you are the branches. The one who remains in me—and I in him-bears much fruit.

(John 15:1, 5)

In John 15, Jesus refers us again to a garden, as in Genesis, with His Father planting again. But now, through the gospel, God places us not in a garden but in Himself through Christ, the True Vine. And not only are we in Christ, but He is even in us! This is the radical truth that so amazed Paul when he wrote, Christ in you, the hope of glory. Talk about terroir! In Jesus we discover the true essence of our selves and our world, not merely what is on the surface but all of the conditions in which His subtle complexity and majestic glory are being revealed. No matter how difficult the conditions may be, God has sent His very presence into the soil of our lives in order to reveal His glory. Jesus Christ is our terroir. He Himself is that elusive, complex and ever-present beauty worthiest of seeking, most treasured in finding, and most longed-for in lacking.

My friends, what is the Great Gardener working to preserve in our hearts, in our city, in our world? Let us prayerfully seek to join Him this year.

Kenyon

Strange Fruit

One of the artists in our community at Redeemer, a classical actress, recently encouraged me to think more about the idea of God’s sanctifying work in our life v/s our own ideas of success: His fruit v/s our fruit. In the process, I’m attempting to draw a tangible connection between our lives in the city, and the purposes of God to reconcile ourselves individually, even artistically, to Himself. How can we see a connection between our personal sanctification and the Grand Work of Renewal that God is bringing about in the world, of which our own salvation, sanctification (and potentially our creative expression) are an evidence?

Perhaps married life is a good starting place. When I got married I had some good intentions, like wanting to love and serve my beautiful-sweet Emily, and see her reach her potential in Christ. But also, in my own sinful condition, I married her to make myself happy forever and found new hope in this “perfectly wonderful person” whose love could make my life, somehow, more pleasing to God. On the surface, those don’t seem like bad things, but they aren’t exactly what God had in mind. He does intend to make me happy forever and He knows that union with Himself is the only hope of that. But happiness is not the point of marriage, though it is a pleasant bi-product. Rather, in laying down my life for my wife each day, as Christ did for me, my heart is transformed to be like His heart, bringing me into fellowship with God who is the source of all true Joy and the only reward worth longing for. It wasn’t even a bad thing that I wanted a perfect person to justify me and make me right with God. That person just isn’t my wife. It’s Jesus. So, those two, seemingly small, distinctions become major shifts in my reality and lived experience.

Just as my marriage is not about making me happy, I had to realize that my being in New York may not be for the reasons that I initially had in mind. But that doesn’t mean that the Sovereign God of my life and this world doesn’t have a reason for me being in NYC. In fact, I can take a pretty good guess that it has a lot to do with the life of Christ being formed in me (which involves a very unpopular word beginning with an “s”), and the hope that I, yes even I, can join Him in His work of renewing all things, through creative endeavors which flow from a heart and life which are being renewed through suffering (I waited until the end to drop the “s-bomb”). And He is so lovingly faithful in bringing about this end, that He will allow many trials and Graces to come until Christ is fully formed in me. “Christ in me, the Hope of Glory”!

I can’t help but think of Paul, the apostle, chained to the wall of a prison cell, probably unable to write on his own after being cruelly beaten, but joyously testifying in a letter to the church in Philippi. He writes in Philippians 1:29,

“...for it has been granted to you that for the sake of Christ you should not only believe in him but also suffer for his sake…and, “do nothing out of selfish ambition or vain conceit…”.

Perhaps the most exultant part of his letter to the Philippians is in chapter 3 when he says,

“( vv. 7-11) Whatever gain I had, I count as loss for the sake of Christ. Indeed, I count everything as loss because of the surpassing worth of knowing Christ Jesus my Lord. For his sake I have suffered the loss of all things and count them as [dung] in order that I may gain Christ and be found in Him…that I may know him and the power of his resurrection and may share his sufferings, becoming like him in his death, that by any means possible I may attain the resurrection from the dead.

God bless you as you seek His purposes for your life and creative work in the city. Grace is at work here, in us and around us. Thank God for that Reality check.

Kenyon

Little Treasures

Do you ever get the feeling that you were meant for another time or place?

My wife, Emily, and I were walking to a restaurant on the East Side this week when I noticed a small gathering of people, furtively surrounding a row of cardboard boxes on the sidewalk. I immediately recognized this scenario. The all-too-familiar posture of contained, pedestrian greed was all the evidence I needed that time was short. I had to act. Emily suppressed her hunger momentarily and followed me across the street. Books! There were books! Freshly left on the sidewalk from some nearby office or studio, some of them looked new! I waited for Emily’s voice to patiently remind me that I’m not allowed to collect any more books, but it didn’t come. Too late now, I’m digging through boxes like a looter in a national disaster, only with a faint sophistication and poise as if to say, “I certainly don’t need these books”.

In a box that seemed to have belonged to a graphic designer, a lover of beauty, I came across my little treasure. The striking cover was all purple hues, natural textures, lavender in a field…it was a book dedicated to lavender, and to how its fragrance and bloom so richly adorn the region of Provence in France. Well! I wasn’t going to miss this! I scooped the book up nonchalantly, giving eyes to Emily that it was time to make our exit. She was relieved that I’d only accumulated a single book. At dinner, we talked and dreamed of France…again. What would our lives look like in France? “What would we do?” she said. We both agreed that it would be reason enough just to BE there.


Ok, so we certainly have a romantic view of the French countryside, but I wonder if some couple in Provence isn’t dreaming of New York City. We have these inexplicable desires to be elsewhere, don’t we? More than that...we believe in our hearts that we could, in fact, be meant for another existence altogether. The little treasure I found in the box on a city street made me long again for my true home, my true city. C.S. Lewis affirms this longing in his timelessly lucid Mere Christianity, suggesting that if we have desires which cannot be satisfied in this world then it must follow that we were meant for another world.

Perhaps our art-making, too, serves as a reminder of our other worldliness. Not merely that inspiration emits from a mysterious source, but that we as artists are consumed by work that addresses elements of our world which are not entirely of this world. As we discussed at Inter Arts Fellowship this month, art extracts information from text or experience which is not expressly present in time and space. In this way, art groans with the universe in eager expectation for the final and eternal proliferation of beauty and grace, the Redemption of all things! As I live my days in the city, I’m thankful for lavender reflections in cardboard boxes, and for the beautiful reminder of art. May we always be graced to discover it.

--Kenyon