A few years back I began reading a compilation edited by Jeremy Begbie titled Beholding the Glory. I haven’t finished all (or even most) of the essays, but one thing from one of them I did read really stuck with me, a most simple point that had yet to be brought to my attentive attention despite growing up in the church.

That point is this: God affirmed the worth of creation, though fallen and out of His favor, by sending Jesus to Earth in human form. How wonderfully plain and straightforward.

Not long after I read that essay I picked up a book by Randy Alcorn titled Heaven. This theologically rich but down to Earth look at what the Bible says about Heaven further affirmed the value of a physical Creation. This may come as a surprise to a lot of Evangelicals. A large part of Alcorn’s Scriptural exploration debunks common and perpetuated myths about the afterlife such as getting your wings, playing harps on clouds and the oft-despised, never-ending up in the sky church service.

Alcorn suggests — based on a myriad of Scripture — that the New Jerusalem will be right here, on the same dirt you and I trip over today. Further, he points to the possibility that art we make in the here and now will be on the “New Earth.” In C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia, in The Last Battle, the followers of Aslan step through a door into Aslan’s country. The children see, on the other side of the door, their home, while Narnia behind them — on the other side of the threshold resting on the same ground — is swallowed up in darkness. They see their city, their countryside, their own houses. Alcorn points to Lewis’ illustration as the best way to describe, with such brevity, what he understands about the New Heaven and the New Earth from the Bible. Thus, if we subscribe to Alcorn’s understanding, though this fallen world will be necessarily purified, restored, aspects and objects of our lives here and now will carry over into the new world, the New Jerusalem.

There’s much too much in this book to go into any further here, suffice it to say that it made sense to me, was backed up by the Bible I believe in and shows the value that God places on His Creation, despite its fallen state. As an artist, this is an incredible point of view. It is a burgeoning hope in the face of political corruption, greed, famine and so much sorrow that we see on a day to day basis. God knows about this tyranny, deception, disregard and pride so symptomatic of man’s fall from grace.

Incarnation: And yet, He still saw fit to tread this dirt.

Restoration: And still, He plans to restore this soil on His return.

As a tactile artist, as someone who is innately driven to create physical objects, palpable environments, these observations mean the world.

Adding: Anglican bishop NT Wright was interviewed by Steven Colbert this week, where the bishop says again what Alcorn wrote in his book. Via ThinkChristian.

Hypermilers miss the point. Some do it for environmental reasons, others to protect the pocketbook. Regardless, if they are really worried about either of these things they will seriously consider — and if at all possible apply — lifestyle changes. That is, they will move closer to work, walk, bike or even buy a scooter. They don’t have to get rid of their cars altogether, but the extremes they are going to, some of them, merely dance around the issues.

The Vatican is looking for new artists. The Roman Catholic church is trying to recruit new artists “In an attempt to ‘lead by example.’” Their Council for Culture is setting up a committee “to find ‘world-famous’ contemporary artists it can commission to produce new religious and spiritual works.” Via Iconia.

Save yourself from MySpace. A new Firefox add-on warns you if you’re about to navigate onto a MySpace page. Too funny. Via TechCrunch.

A disclaimer, this post is not intended to be an affront to Catholics. Please keep this in mind while reading the following entry which does discuss the denomination, as evidenced by the title above, and feel free to correct me on any points where I may have misrepresented any related doctrine or theology espoused by the Catholic Church.

A story via ArtsJournal reports the Catholic League’s Bill Donahue is at it again. I mentioned him last year when he raised Cain over Cosimo Cavallaro’s Sweet Jesus.

Donahue and the League are upset about a series of paintings by one Felipe Baeza, a student at the private Cooper Union. Baeza’s offending works combine erotic images with traditionally Catholic symbols such as rosary beads and a Crucifix. I haven’t seen the paintings in question, and by their description have no desire to see them, but I don’t agree with the Catholic League’s approach to these exhibits. Donahue also lead other recent protests against questionable art, such as Brooklyn Museum’s Sensation exhibit and Andres Serrano’s Piss Christ.

By no means do I condone the way the assumed subject matter in works such as Baeza’s — based on description alone, mind you — is presented. I did a Google search for some images of the paintings but, thankfully, didn’t come up with anything. I did find his Facebook profile, and the following painting which seems to be by the same man:

[Per a comment from a friend of Baeza's on another site — which I've added to this post — I removed the image after receiving clarification that it was not done by this particular Felipe Baeza.]

I’m not a fan of censorship, but there is a balance to be struck between an artist’s exploration in subject and media, and resulting useful (read in part, “tactful”) artwork. It’s not too difficult to think of the messages Baeza might be trying to get across when reading slightly more elaborate descriptions of these paintings than I’ve posted here, but I can’t help but think he could have approached his canvases in a more deft manner. I’m not suggesting here that an artist change their intent, merely that they rework their presentation. Difficult (but still valid) subjects aren’t easy or fun to look at either way; works that come across as overtly sensational probably won’t garner enough respect to communicate to the generally hoped-for broad audience.

Regardless, I don’t think people in the Church, Catholic or otherwise, have much right to complain about works of art that don’t exactly put the best face on this fallible institution. The manner in which such artistic commentary is crafted might be worth noting, but not necessarily making public statements about — which I’ll get into shortly.

Referring back to Donahue’s criticisms, perhaps he believes his own denomination to be Divine and therefore infallible. I’ve known of Catholics with this attitude, although I don’t sense it’s a prevailing conviction. If I may be so bold, this would in fact be a naive belief, and I don’t understand how anyone could presently think so highly of the Catholic Church in light of the recent scandals that — unfortunately — plagued this enduring institution. No part of the Body of Christ can say with a straight face that they or their particular congregation has not made certain gross missteps along the way. I’ve grown up in, and still attend, non-denominational churches where scandals also mar the image of the Body. All such circumstances do harm to the name of our Holy God, which goes without saying. We are all guilty. We are all human.

However, this naive understanding is the only way I can validate The Catholic League’s public criticisms of such “ugly” paintings. Making formal statements against these exhibits only heightens awareness of them. This creates more publicity for the artist, which aids his or her career — unless they only intend to market themselves to a very narrow group of people — likely encouraging them to create additional similar pieces. With few exceptions, all publicity is good publicity. It seems to me that Donahue and the League are inadvertently doing themselves and their cause a disservice. Were they to keep quiet about the artworks, or keep their discussion and disgust internal, it’s much more likely such shows will go unnoticed. I’d never heard of Cooper Union before today, and were it not for the fuss raised by Donahue I would probably still be ignorant.

Art has historically addressed social and political ideas. It will likely continue to do so within its cycles. The Church’s past and recent Faux pas will remain potential targets, so to speak, for paintings and sculptures, just like war, politics and other cultural ills. Artists have every right to broach these subjects. The ones that do so in a respectable way will likely be the ones named in history books.

This post is inspired by, though not really about, to an entry on ThinkChristian titled Church as a Spectator Sport. The brief spot talks about how easy it is to be invisible in larger churches if you want to. Indeed, such anonymity requires little effort in the mega-church setting.

I must admit that I’m a bit jaded with the whole Sunday morning church scene right now. I might have mentioned this in passing once before on this blog, but since it’s come up in conversation twice this week before the ThinkChristian commentary I’m giving it some more attention.

The common, predictable non-denominational church service just isn’t doing it for me. It’s become as rote as more traditional liturgies were accused of being by Evangelicals during my childhood. However, I’ve muddled through this sentiment over the last two years or so, and what I’ve come to realize is that every believer is at a different point in their spiritual walk. “Duh,” you say. And yes, I already knew this, but I hadn’t observed it’s relationship to regular assembly and fellowship as it’s done in America. Routine and communal reading of Scripture, prayer and communion are good and necessary disciplines, but the same kinds of liturgy aren’t always going to speak to every church goer at every different point in their life.

Churches aren’t able, I understand, to appease the whims and details of every Christ-follower’s present spiritual position through the single hour Sunday morning venue. Liturgies are established with good reason. Discipline isn’t always fun, exciting or even memorable, but it is necessary for us waffling humans. What I’m disappointed in, though, is how the church doesn’t seem to be aware of this concept.

Here I am, not feeling like I can either take away from or add to my congregation’s weekly service at this point in my life, and also not feeling like my church even knows about this deep-seated discontentment. Further, even if the church were to acknowledge this personal struggle the skeptic in me is convinced they wouldn’t try and do anything about it. Hopefully I’m wrong.

I like our pastor and he speaks well, but I can’t pay attention through an entire sermon these days. I like the music leader and know from face-to-face conversation he possesses a real passion for good music, but the music on Sunday mornings does nothing for me 90% of the time — as a listener or singer. The only part of Sunday morning liturgy that I look forward to is communion, which we gladly take on a weekly basis (unusual for a non-denominational church). Making all of these observations and more, I still wouldn’t really be able to tell them what I want that’s different either.

I can hear the criticisms to this rant already. You’re selfish. It’s not about what you get but about what you give. Stop whining. Let me assure you these are all irrelevant criticisms. I, to the best of my fallible human ability, very earnestly desire to glorify God in regular-scheduled community worship. My point in putting these words down here is more to alert church leadership that there are people in your congregation who are in a place in life where the standard Sunday morning service feels awkward, un-fulfilling, unmemorable. Just last week a friend of mine announced he and his wife were looking at other churches. He basically feels the same as I do from what I could tell. They may end up back at our church, but are giving some others a shot. Please don’t think we’re trying to make trouble. We still love God as much as we can and want to serve, to be a significant part in furthering the Kingdom.

But something about church — and we can’t always put our finger on it — just isn’t engaging to us at this point in life. We keep going because we understand the need for community and discipline. So we end up, those of us who are artists anyway, sketching in our sketchbooks during the sermons and simply annoyed by the pew calisthenics during song.

Please acknowledge.

This post has to be the winner for “Longest Title” among all of the entries I’ve made to this blog so far. From Bloomberg, this is an interesting article about American collectors being called on to purchase Muslim art. Most of the writing focuses on the business aspect of a venture by the al-Shroogi family, who owns the Cuadro Fine Art Gallery in Dubai.

More interesting, however, than the article’s discussion about marketing Islamic art to Westerners — and the fact that there are indeed modern Muslim artists — is some very brief commentary about art and culture:

“Imagine, Muslim artwork hanging in Naples [Florida],” al-Shroogi says through a radio headset. “We need to do more of this,” the Bahraini banker adds as the aircraft laden with modern and contemporary Islamic art makes its final approach on a family expedition to convince Americans that the Middle East is more than a terrorist hatchery . . .

It’s an undertaking born from the al-Shroogi clan’s passion for art, the patronage of Bahrain’s royal family and the conviction that the Islamic nation a few miles off the Saudi Arabian coast has the muscle to build a genuine cultural bridge between the U.S. and the Muslim world.

Can art actually bridge cultures, and what exactly does that mean? Will Westerners think differently about the Middle East if they look at a few paintings by Muslim artists? The possibility exists for this; remember my February post regarding a Jewish atheist deeply moved by a 600 year old altarpiece.

Painting by John Torreano exhibited at the Cuadro gallery in Dubai.

The tactile arts are important to culture and communication, despite the anaemic attitude towards serious artistic endeavors in the American Church, generally speaking. Significant new paintings and sculptures created by artists of faith intently pursuing careers as artists, engaging the culture and furthering their craft, are needed in the Church as an intentional witness to culture here and abroad.

I remember hearing a story at conference in Portland a few years ago about a couple who went into the desert of Africa as missionaries. The wife served as a doctor, and the husband worked as an artist. He set up a studio in a shipping crate and made art for a year or so. At the end of the year he held a show for the community. I don’t know how many pieces there were, what the media was or what they looked like. My impression, if I recall correctly, was that they weren’t simple Sunday School drawings. They were more likely contemporary works. Regardless, the media reportedly conveyed the Gospel to that community in an effective way.

Take note, pastors. Take note, Church leadership and parishioners. What can you do to help make the name of God better through the arts? First off, make certain your own attitude is positive toward the arts. Educate yourself as to the importance of art in culture and Christianity. You don’t need a degree to appreciate art. Understand that it is OK if a person wants to create abstract paintings that aren’t about Bible verses; understand that it’s OK if someone wants to be a full-time artist. This is not a cop-out, it’s not laziness. Yes, it’s hard to make a living at times, but if society changes how it thinks about art and artists this won’t so often be the case.

Further, encourage aspiring or practicing artists in your congregation, and make sure they know there are others like them. Organize exhibits of paintings and sculptures; organize small groups so creative people can encourage one another. Allow the artists you know freedom to push your own boundaries. Yes, there are appropriate limits, but creativity begs new ideas and reminds us of how we are created in the Creator’s likeness. Don’t poo-poo something just because it makes you uncomfortable or isn’t your own taste, and feel free to engage in significant and witty critique in order to better understand such works.

I have to laugh every time I glance in the youth room at our church, where a mixed media work I donated hangs. When I first saw it there — instead of in a more public space such as a hallway or foyer — I wasn’t in the least surprised, but I was disappointed. It’s well crafted and blatantly Scriptural. My hope was that it would be hung in a place visible to anyone in the church at any time as something to meditate on.

Moth Mend, 2006. Moth-eaten sweaters, new red silk, paint.

I can laugh at the typographical triptych’s placement within my own church because I expected it, sadly, but I hold no grudge and hope that the kids who see it on a weekly basis are encouraged by it. I also hope, however, that the American Church soon comes to realize that segregating the palpable world from the spiritual world is just bad theology. It is OK to be “in” the world, even if we aren’t supposed to be “of” it. It is OK to be a part of culture in a non-pious context — in fact, it’s good to be involved in this way. How else are we going to show the love of God to the skeptics, to the people averse to church or Christianity?

I originally saw the Bloomberg article on Iconia.

Mission trips.

They seem to become more and more popular every year, although no one really knows how many Americans take part on an annual basis. The more popular they become, the more churches and other religious institutions such as private universities organize and send teams abroad, making any kind of calculation of participants more and more difficult.

My day job is in missions mobilization, as I’ve made note of in the past. I do marketing and graphic design for a very small organization called Mission Data International (M-DAT). We’re known for the mission trip search engine ShortTermMissions.com, thus short-term mission trips are in my mind on a regular basis. I read articles about them from time to time and look at statistics from our website weekly. I’m by no means an expert on the subject, but I’m certainly more immersed in the “field” than most.

M-DAT has a policy (I’m not sure if it’s written or implied) suggesting employees serve on a short-term trip every three years. My wife and I have yet to do this, basically on account of our complicated support situation. We talk about it though, and occasionally we come across opportunities that interest us.

A few things from this Spring have me thinking still more about mission trips, and I thought I’d take some time to sort through my thoughts in a brief post.

What is a mission trip?
The phrase “mission trips” bothers me. It is applied much too broadly in modern Christendom, doing a disservice to all of us in the faith. More basically, the word missions is used in the same way, being thrown around in a manner such that it more or less loses any specific meaning. It’s very popular to say that “Everyone’s a missionary.” I used to, in my infancy so-to-speak, be of this mind. (more…)

Found these while perusing YouTube this afternoon:

Here is the longer, unedited version of the above.

RelieveDebtor over at Architecture + Morality posted a thoroughly captivating article today titled Beauty and Waste: More thoughts on space and worship. He starts off by citing the challah. Customarily, Jewish bread bakers would tear off a small portion of their dough as a tithe — the challah — either to throw away or give to the priests. Apparently the tradition continues today, acting as a reminder that God provides all that is needed.

The author then begins talking about such a practice in relationship to our sometimes overly conservative and efficient American culture, a culture typically averse to waste. I often lament the wastefulness of America, as indicated by this blog’s category called “Disposable culture.” But RelieveDebtor has a good point, and the waste he refers to isn’t exactly in the same vein as what I decry on The Aesthetic Elevator.

The blog entry then dives into how this relates to church architecture. The writer asks:

But how can you convince someone that it might be worth creating a space that’s less than efficient, and that might take years to complete, not months? I could certainly quote scripture, where Jesus defends a woman who cleans his feet with costly nard. Surely this text allows the Church to be “wasteful” when it comes to adoring Christ.

This is a wonderful point with respect to the approach to the arts found in many or most modern Protestant minds. Church buildings are treated as — and I’ve said this numerous times before — purely functional, with white steeples thrown on top for good measure. I commonly liken most new places of worship to the visual marriage of a warehouse and an office building. How does such an aesthetic aid in drawing a visitor into reverent adoration of the one true, Holy God? Should a space designed and built for such a purpose be visually the same as, and therefore elicit the same psychological response as the places we work? Should the buildings in our communities labeled as places where Christ-followers gather and praise look the same as the city hall or a lawyer’s office?

The post goes on to say that “Instead of offering beauty and mystery to its congregants, it replaces those needs with an emotional experience and preaching that promises certainty . . . In other words, the space need not communicate.” Instead, we’ll do all the talking, and lots of talking the writer suggests.

More or less I agree with everything in the text from the Architecture + Morality post, including the conclusion which suggests the best solution is a balance between erecting beautiful buildings and keeping costs at a reasonable level. Lovely buildings, it’s cautioned, do not replace true worship.

The only other thing I can add is a personal anecdote about the church I’ve attended for the past four years now. This church owned land for a new building, but instead opted to purchase a vacant warehouse in town which would offer more space for the money. The warehouse, not surprisingly, looks like a warehouse. Even after the renovation. This probably saved the congregation some cash, but it also did well to further it’s philosophy in how it interacts with the community. And while the author of the Beauty and Waste article bemoans such spaces as places of worship, I would argue that the church actually did the visual environment a favor. How long would the old furniture store sit vacant, an eyesore in the city, if the church hadn’t bought it? The paint would fade in the sun and weeds would take over the empty parking lot. Instead, the building is now used and kept up. (Yes, I would personally prefer a very different space to worship in than a converted furniture warehouse, but life isn’t perfect.)

RelieveDebtor concludes with this:

Or in other words, there are ways in which we worship beyond our feelings and our words; prayers in stone matter, too. Indeed they stand apart from a world that is looking more and more monolithic, where big box churches, malls and retail stores blend together all too seamlessly. Funny that when the architecture blends together, so too does the music, theology, and driving motivations for even existing.

Tim Jones over at Old World Swine responded to a commenter’s comments in his most recent post, The Nekkid Truth, Too. The conversation touched on some thoughts I’ve had in the last couple years, but up to this point had yet to put down. I’m using his entry as inspiration, thus, and putting the keys to the html editor.

Let’s get started with this statement from The Nekkid Truth:

God made us men to be attracted to the female form (I consider it his best work, the pinnacle of physical creation), so that is something to accept and to be grateful for. To acknowledge the attraction and the beauty is no sin, in itself.

The commenter is, through the course of the post, expressing a desire to appreciate masterful works of art which include nudity. However, he struggles with this on account of men’s predilection towards lust, the most common affliction of the fallen male.

The question that burns me personally is how, as a fallen male, do I distinguish admiration from something more perverse? Can I? Is there a black and white line marking the difference between, in Jones’ words, the desire to “possess” a woman and thinking — in overly simplified terms — “She’s gorgeous!” Do men possess the ability to admire without lusting?

As a man and an artist intrinsically interested in all things aesthetic, all ideas and ideals of beauty, this question intrigues me to no end. And I realize, however unfortunate for my own mental well-being, there may not be an end to wrangling with these questions in this mortal life. I struggle interminably with whether or not I can have a pure thought at all, often wondering if everything that goes through my mind related to the female physique isn’t tainted. I constantly reassure myself that this is not the case, but the concern doesn’t go away. Can a man actually think about a woman in a way, however mild, that isn’t perverse? (And I don’t ask this solely in the context of sexuality, although this is the greatest temptation.). Some people may think this last question is a bit off the rocker, but I would counter by suggesting that none of us really know what is Holy well enough to determine what thoughts in our human minds may or may not be completely pure.

Last year my wife and I visited with friends recently returned from a vacation in Singapore. They talked about how it is illegal, against the written law, for men to ogle at women in that country. While he genuinely appreciated the attempt at a modest culture — and thoroughly enjoyed his visit to such a law-abiding society — our friend also understood the problems with trying to legislate such things. He likened what he saw to a police state.

I long to view all of God’s creation with the eye that He intended. Laws, such as those apparently in effect in Singapore, will not change the fallen mind. They will not allow me or anyone else to overcome human tendencies to pervert, basically, everything we think or do. While my attitude may come across as a bit fatalistic, let me assure you that I still strive for and hope to see as much of the glory of God’s creation — including the female form — before I die. This pursuit constantly drives my work in the studio, even if it isn’t obvious in the forms or titles of my sculpture.

Adding: As Jim points out in the first comment, the Titian above is worth some commentary: “The clothed woman is believed to represent earthly vanity and materialistic love, the nude to represent higher, pure love. A casual observer might think it was the other way around.” See a few more details on Wikipedia.

See my other entries dealing with women and beauty via this link.

I received an email from Urbana today focused solely on the arts. I had been wondering when they’d get back to this topic; it seems like more than a year since I’ve seen any art related content in their correspondence.

I scanned the articles, not having the time to dive into them (and finding the subject matter to be less than novel). The one thing that stood out was in an article titled Worship and the Arts in Ministry and Missions, where the author refers to a challenge he gave in 1999 to “250 Christians in dance, 75 Christians in music, 50 Christians in theatre and drama, and 25 others in visual arts, puppets and a few other artistic expressions.”

Twenty-five others in the visual arts, puppets et al. This small percentage of visual artists — and we don’t know how few of these are actually tactile artists and not digital artists — in comparison to the larger number of dance, music and theatre types is part of why I push so hard for the visual arts in the context of the Church (Other than the fact that my own interests lie, without a doubt, primarily in the visual arts.). I also find it interesting that, at the unidentified gathering, there are more dance than music people; it seems to me this would usually be the other way around, more music than dance or theater.

The three other links in the email are an Artsy Witness, Art and Soul, and Redeeming the Arts.