Art And All That, Part V

Before beginning this post, here is just a short recap of what we’ve covered so far in parts 1-4.  First, the initial question, from Stephen:

“My only curiosity is, what have you learned from all those experiences that confirms your beliefs, especially about Art and all that?”

The answers so far have been that my experiences have confirmed the following beliefs I hold about art:

1.    There is True Art and faux art. 
2.    God made art powerful.
3.    Art is important to God.
4.    True Art requires great sacrifice.

That’s the short version, anyway.  We have also agreed on a definition of True Art, and I’ve made the point that just because one is a true Christian doesn’t mean that one’s art is True Art.  Here, then, is the next thing I believe about Art And All That.

Art is like a big wooden spoon.

I realize that that statement may be puzzling and unclear.  So let me try to explain.  First, I will tell a story.

Years ago my children and I attended a religious family camp.  This camp was supported by and based on (what I now know to be) a certain cultic fundamental group.  At the time, I was sadly lacking in the knowledge of sound hermeneutics, and did not realize my danger.  Nevertheless, the Lord protected us.  There was at this particular camp in our dorm a very nice lady and her daughters.  They were all very beautiful.  They all had long, well-cared-for, uncut hair.  They all wore kaki or denim skirts and modest shirts, even in the 108 degree heat at the camp.  They wore no make-up.

On the last day of camp, she and I began to converse about music.  I forget what brought the subject up, but I distinctly remember her telling me of learning that a “backbeat” in music was bad.  She liked rock music at the time, but after having this idea planted in her head, she began to listen to it more carefully.  “And sure enough” she said, swaying her denim-draped hips from side to side, “I found it DID make me feel more sensual!  So I got rid of all my rock music.  We don’t listen to it anymore“ she continued, with a self-satisfied, pious air.

I asked her for biblical support for the idea that a “backbeat” in music was wrong, but she was unable to give any.

As I continued to live my life, God was gracious to bring me to a better understanding of hermeneutics and doctrine, and to my belief in the "spoonishness" of Art.

I am a mom and a cook.  I love being both, so I’m sure that is where this “analogy” comes from.  I apologize ahead of time for the fact that, like all analogies, it breaks down if you press it too hard.

Think of you and each person in the world as a molded jello salad:  you know the kind—that gelatinous, semi-transparent sweet treat is molded in a pleasing shape.

 According to scripture, everyone’s jello starts out with a slimy, disgusting, and putrified filling.  Nasty stuff, that.  And it’s all we have unless and until God saves us.  He cleans out the slimy dead stuff, and puts in another filling; clean, healthful and yummy!  All jello salads look similar- jiggling and sparkling and performing some amazing tricks as well as some stupid things—but the filling makes all the difference.  For those of you familiar with Christian terminology, the jello is what God calls your “flesh”.

Art (and any number of other things you might mention) is only a spoon.

What my pious, denim-wearing friend had done, along with many in the church and the world, was to mistake the spoon for the jello.  The spoon might make you act bad, so it must be the spoon that is bad.  Get rid of the spoon and you won't act bad anymore. (pssst…it’s just a cover for gnosticism—i.e., all matter is bad, only spirit is good).

She and the monks and nuns of antiquity, and myriads of fundamentalist sects from thousands of years ago to the present, both Christian and non, think that if you get rid of the spoon, the jello will somehow cease to exist. Monks and hermits lock their doors, crawl into their cells, and consume only bread and water in their efforts to eliminate the spoons of life.  Denim-skirted ladies are even doing their best to remove the spoons from the men around them who might be tempted by a glimpse of a fashionably dressed figure.

The only problem with that is that the jello is really still there, shining and sparkling.  Just let some other spoon come along—oh, let’s choose ambition, this time—or something to jostle the jello—say a life-threatening illness like the common cold, for instance—and the jello will start it’s jiggling circus tricks.

Dear denim lady:  it’s not the “backbeat” that is bad.  You’ve got you some prone-to-jiggle-jello, there.  You can get rid of the “spoon” of the “backbeat”, but soon another spoon will come along (an innocent question by an observer, perhaps?) and your jello will be jostled (that holier-than-thou piety looks awfully pretty from the outside.)

St. Paul said it this way:

    So I find it to be a law that when I want to do right, evil lies close at hand. 22     For I delight in the law of God, in my inner being, 23     but I see in my members another law waging war against the law of my mind and making me captive to the law of sin that dwells in my members. 24     Wretched man that I am! Who will deliver me from this body of death? (Romans 7:21-24)

What are we to do, if we can’t stop our jello from jiggling by getting rid of the spoons?  We are surrounded by spoons!  They are bound to stir up something!

First of all, if you find that your jello salad only contains putrified filling, you gotta get that fixed.  A spoon can’t stir up anything good if there isn’t any there to stir up.  If you need help knowing what to do about this problem, post a question in the comments and leave me your email.  I’ll gladly share the good news of the gospel with you in hopes that God’s grace will furnish you with some yummy filling!

Secondly, the writer of Hebrews shared with us some wisdom on the subject:

    And let us consider how to stir up one another to love and good works, 25     not neglecting to meet together, as is the habit of some, but encouraging one another, and all the more as you see the Day drawing near. (Hebrews 10:24)

Suppose that the spoon stirs up the jello quite rigorously?  Why, the filling seeps out.  In the case of the unsaved, that will be quite a tragedy—smelly and noxious.  In the case of the Christian?  That yummy filling seeps out, making everything smell better, look better, and taste better.

Now, where have we seen that scripture before?  Where have we heard that phrase “stir up”?  Wasn’t it in our working definition of True Art? (hint:  “motivating” and “stirring up” are two ways of saying the same thing.)

Working definition of True Art: True Art magnifies the greatness of God in Jesus Christ through the power of the Holy Spirit illustrating God’s Word through the artistic medium thereby motivating the gathered Church to proclaim the Gospel, to cherish God’s presence, and to live for God’s glory.

Thinky Things

We might all ponder our jello salad and the spoons that stir it.  Have we mistaken the spoons for the jello in any area?  Are there “rules” we have set up for ourselves or others that are attempts at getting rid of the spoons?  Do these rules go beyond God’s commands?