When: Sunday mornings at 9am & 11am (childcare available during both services)
Where: 1770 Sherman Street Events Center (3 blocks north of the State Capitol)
When: Sunday mornings at 9am & 11am (childcare available during both services)
Where: 1770 Sherman Street Events Center (3 blocks north of the State Capitol)
Not all that long ago, I was cruising my usual online spots in search of artist competitions and juried submission opportunities. There are all kinds of advertisements: art as it relates to the subject of fear, watercolors of boats, portraits of children, competitions strictly for and relating to people from the panhandle of Florida, etc.
Eventually I came across the heading “International Christian Art Competition.” The guidelines for submission required the accurate depiction of some sort of Bible story or recognizable Christian activity, such as going to church. In context, these rules seemed legitimate enough, although they failed to capture the essence of what “Christian art” could or should be.
I am a painter. And I’m a Christian. But the rules of that Christian art competition seemed to imply that I am less of a Christian painter if I prefer the subject of trees to people walking to church. If it were true that I preferred trees to churchgoers as a subject, I probably wouldn’t enter a contest that requires I try my hand at depicting Jesus feeding the 5,000. This preference doesn’t mean that I believe the Bible story any less; I just don’t want to paint it. What about an abstract work? Or an installation? I am not trying generate a list of what makes art good or bad—there are philosophical tomes on the subject already and talking about it has failed to make the subject any more conclusive—rather, I want to discuss whether art in any of its forms can or should be classified as “Christian.”
This discussion is a source of contention and frustration for many artists as well as churchgoers. I (an artist and churchgoer) was once told by a woman (also a churchgoer) that I should really take down that particular painting because when people come over they might think that—heaven forbid!—I am “a girl of ill repute.” After that, I began the doubt my aesthetic taste regarding the picture in question.
Since that experience, I’ve heard a handful of people with confused glances at galleries and art openings, and even sometimes at church, look at art and ask What does it mean? This question gets at the heart of the comment made by my concerned houseguest regarding my picture—the meaning conveyed in the art. I suspect that this question is asked in order to get a better handle on whether or not this work aligns with their values.
My conclusion is this: wherever there are artists who are Christians, there should be art that tells the Christian story of reality. Who you are—which is sometimes different than who you say you are—is evident in what you do. I could visit your office and look through papers on your desk and conclude from your files, notes and calendar that you are a banker. Just like an artist’s composition conveys a message, , so the elements of your life and your actions tell me who you are and what is important to you. I would argue that how consistently your life aligns with the Biblical view of reality depends much more on who you are rather than what you do. You will not fool me into thinking you’re very Christian simply by arranging your religion into a check list—that kind of spiritual life does not affect how you treat people or how you make a business deal… or the depth of meaning in your art.
This is a personal reminder that who I am is reflected in what I create. Every day I am feeding my mind and influencing my character not only by the things that I see on the occasional trip to the museum, but every time I ingest what’s on TV and listen to the radio and talk with my friends at work. This is not to say that museums, TV, radio and coworkers are bad, but are my choices best?
If it is truly my goal know Christ more and to seek what is excellent, I have to reinforce this pursuit in every possible way, for example by choosing to watch and listen to things that move me toward God. I find myself wanting be more patient, more loving, more kind (just insert all of the fruits of Spirit here), but unable to will myself into being this kind of person. What I need is to know more truth, to invite Jesus into more parts of my life, and to surrender to him, so that He can change me.
Let’s skip ahead a few trials in life and say I’m now a genuinely more loving person. How would this quality translate into my art?
It’s a mystery, but I’ve seen it happen. Like when I’ve spent time kneading prayer into my bread dough and it creates more joy in the smell and more blessing the flavor, there is a spirit of life that is evident in a work of art that comes from the hands of a follower of God.
“Ok, well, I don’t see it. How do you paint a ‘Christian’ tree?” Touche. The thing is, it may not be as evident as it could be. I’m not perfect, and I haven’t met an artist or human, for that matter, who is. I paint on my off days as well as the ones on which I feel particularly holy (and those don’t happen all that often). So until I’m better at communicating my faith through spirit and grace, I’m just going to have to keep trying. And I hope that in the meantime I’m not forced to paint loaves and fishes.
234 Columbine St. Suite 230 Denver, CO 80206 | info@fellowshipdenver.org
