The artist uncovers possibilities we may never discover on our own. They offer us glimpses of reality, of hope, and help us in our longing for deeper connections with God, with ourselves, and with the world. They are prophets and priests for the masses in the beauty of art in the kingdom.
Calling of the artist
In her essay The Artist: what exactly is an artist and how do we shepherd them?, American screenwriter Barbara Nicolosi states that beauty is the terrain of real artists, and one way to recognize them is if they dwell in this terrain. Thomas Aquinas defined beauty as wholeness (nothing missing, nothing extra), harmony (all parts related in complementary relationship) and radiance (profound illumination). This is where the divinely gifted artist dwells, laying down pathways of revelation between God and humanity.
The word beauty comes from the Greek kalen, which means, ‘call’. When we encounter beauty, we find ourselves drawn to it, called by it. Artists particularly sensitive to beauty feel compelled to share its richness with the world – a vision, an idea – that is fleshed out in music, prose, poetry, drama, and image. To say that artists work within the realm of beauty in exclusion of all else would do injustice to their calling. Just as a painter contrasts dark and light to great effect, so artists use both harmony and chaos to reveal profound truths. The true artist gives us a feeling of knowing we have been touched by something life-altering. What we have seen, read or heard has added to our soul – it has expanded us.
Nature and life of the artist
Artists, in their prophetic role, become like a conduit between God and the world. Nicolosi writes, “It’s as though the artist becomes God’s reed to blow beautiful music through. …a reed is useless unless it has holes punched in it. The voice of God is too much for the human vessel. The artist has to be stretched and punctured and pulled and misshapen so that they can become a vessel of revelation for the rest of us…The demands of creativity can be humiliating and full of what the Pope calls ‘suffering of insufficiency’.”
The nature of an artist is to pay attention – to feed their artful sensitivities. They require time and space to notice the world, and perhaps a specific location to create their art. Sometimes that means periods away from everyday distractions, or dwelling among the sounds, scents and colours of their subject. Artists also require time and space for their own specific disciplines – reading, prayer, meditation, walking – habits to feed their soul and clarify their vision.
Delving into a big project can be daunting. Artists (especially writers) generally admit to procrastination. Fear of failure, fear of success, comparing their work to others’, knowing they’re in for a long slog – can put them off. And then the inevitable skepticism: What can I offer that has not been done before?
Artists can become immersed in their work to the exclusion of all else; they’ve been known to wear their pajamas for days, and forget to eat. Honing one’s skill is an arduous, lengthy and solitary task. By the time the symphony plays, the book is published, the painting complete, the movie aired, or the song recorded, the artist has spent countless hours in research, composition, rehearsal and review. If their work is going to have emotional power, the artist knows that form and detail must be mastered. And when the particular project is completed, the artist moves into the vulnerable space of standing naked before the world.
The demands of their work can make artists seem socially inept and often leave them feeling lonely and misunderstood. They need a support network that ‘gets’ them.
Supporting and nurturing the artist
In his Letter to Artists, Pope John Paul II wrote about the “priesthood of artists”. When we support artists, we pave the way for them to create offerings of praise to God – to produce a prayer on behalf of us all. Their words and images become our incense of praise wafting heavenward. As light shines through a prism, scattering color all around, good art reveals facets of God’s character and His creation.
As a pastor to artists, Joshua Banner in his essay, The Practitioner: Nurturing artists in the local church compares his work to farming. “As farmer-pastors, we are lovers. We tenderly work the soil of our culture by identifying artistic gifts with discernment (pastoring) … to push [artists’] gifts outward in order to share their creativity with others (promoting) … we prune the gifts and coach the artists to mature so that their fruit will be sustainable and long-lasting (producing).”
Artists need a community to nurture them in their seedling, tender shoot, fruiting and pruning stages. Both farmers and artists know that reaping a harvest requires patience and hard work. It is not simply the artwork that glorifies God. The artist is meant to glorify the Master Creator throughout the process of art making, exercising patience and persistence until their offering is ready to be received by the world.
As nurturers and patrons, we offer artists the “Amen!” they long to hear.
(Essays by Nicolosi and Banner appear in For the Beauty of the Church, W. David O. Taylor)
Marion Van Driel delights in her roles as a wife, mother and grandmother; her soul is fed by both composing and composting. Music, words, form and colour are ingredients on which she thrives. She considers her garden a gift where family and friends gather to visit, heal, reflect and celebrate. Called as writer, artist, worship leader, gardener and (sometimes reluctant) follower of Christ, she bears evidence of God’s abundant grace without which she’d be someone else entirely.
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