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

Knowing the Creative Christ

Time and time again, when discouraged by the estranged relationship our society has with the material world, that also translates as an indifference towards the arts, I revisit a piece of art: the hymn found in Colossians 1:15-20.

This doxology is a cosmic big band explosion of praise conveying how all of creation culminates in Christ. This praise flows from a revelatory grace that attributes the wisdom of the ages to that of Christ. Failure for artists to understand this theological song can discount Jesus’ own creative work. It is through Christ, God accomplishes his creative and redemptive purposes in and for the world. It is only through the broken and resurrected body of Jesus where we find hope. Hope, not only for our bodies and the material world, but also for our bodies of work made up of, and existing in, the material world. Christ is at work redeeming all things through the cross.

The wisdom of the cross bridges the visible and invisible, heaven and earth, the concrete and concepts. Seen through the cross, our art pronounces our humanness with a heavenly accent that hints of a life beyond our limitations.

Knowing that Jesus holds all things together—past, present, future, seen, and unseen—where, then, are all of our doxologies? If we read and meditate on Colossians 1 we have no excuse for artistic inactivity. Please take the dancing shoes out of the bag, reboot your computer and complete your short story, open the piano bench and take out the unfinished song, and praise him who reconciles all things to God.

--Maria