Art and the Gospel

By way of introduction, let me confess that I am much more of a country bumpkin than I am a refined art connoisseur. There is no denying that I am a very inartistic individual and remarkably ignorant when it comes to recognizing and appreciating good art. This makes my attempt to write on the subject a wee bit presumptuous.

Nevertheless, I am fascinated by art and the role that it plays in human life and culture. After all, there is something wildly unique about art that almost defies all reason. Anyone who has ever been moved by a song on the radio—or fascinated by a painting or captivated by a book or amazed by architecture or gripped by a film—has experienced this sort of reason-defying effect that the arts can have upon us.

Art is a vital part of the human experience, and it has been so for quite some time. But art presents a rather difficult dilemma for conscientious Christians who feel the persistent tension between the leisure that art requires and the urgency that the gospel demands. Art does not produce itself; it requires gifted novelists who spend countless hours contemplating fictitious characters and events, gifted musicians who spend countless hours gaining mastery over their instrument, and gifted painters who spend countless hours experimenting with colors, shapes, and textures. But all of these countless hours add up quickly, and one is forced to wonder if it all amounts to nothing more than fiddling while Rome burns. Our world is in bad shape, and a million works of art won’t solve our problems. This is precisely why Jesus commands us to go and make disciples of all nations, not to go and make fine paintings, films, and music.

So we must ask ourselves: are the production and enjoyment of art mere wastes of time for the Christian? Or, to phrase the question more pointedly: do the production and enjoyment of art subvert or impair the mission of the church? These are crucial questions, and I don’t think there are any easy answers. But in an attempt to move toward a healthy and gospel-centered theology of the arts, let me suggest four functions of art that allow it to occupy a useful place within the church.

1. Art can sharpen our affections. If there is anything that prohibits our pursuit and enjoyment of God, it is dullness in our affections. We do not know how to feel. We don’t feel true remorse over sin, we don’t feel true joy in forgiveness, and we don’t feel true delight in God’s presence. But good art forces us to feel, and it forces us to feel deeply. Engaging the arts allows our affections to be pricked, making us more sensitive to the diverse array of affections that the Christian life requires. Sadness, awe, ecstasy, hope, longing—all of these feelings can be developed and exercised by healthy artistic expression.

2. Art can awaken us to beauty. It is very easy to speak of divine things as being “beautiful,” but it is much harder to describe what exactly we mean by the word itself. More likely than not, our understanding of beauty is tragically anemic in comparison to what it should be. Yet the more we expose ourselves to the artistically sublime, the more our concept of beauty comes to life. And the more our concept of beauty comes to life, the more informed and awe-filled our worship will become. Now granted, all earthly beauty (and all beauty observed in art) is but a shadow of God’s true beauty. But even a shadow would be an improvement for most of us.

3. Art can transcend the mundane. The vast majority of human beings spend the vast majority of their lives performing routine and often tedious tasks. We mow the yard, we brush our teeth, we go to meetings, we sit at stop lights, and we pay electric bills. And in the midst of all this monotony, it is easy to become dull and apathetic creatures. But art has the ability to jolt us out of the mundane by opening up to us a world that transcends our daily lives. Art shows us the remarkable depth of human experience. This is not mysticism or escapism; it is simply the realization that we are spiritual creatures who have been created to do more than simply earn a living, enjoy retirement, and then die.

4. Art can help us interpret reality. Life is often strange and difficult to understand. After all, we live in a world which is fallen—but one which nevertheless is being redeemed. This remarkably paradoxical nature of our existence can be hard to take in at times as we seek to come to grips with reality. But art gives us an outlet to explore the world in creative ways and to process the often confusing dimensions of human existence. For whatever reason, there is something about art that helps us gain a new perspective on the various situations we all face. Why else are we drawn to novels and songs and films that we can “relate” to? Thus, art serves as a sort of interpretive lens through which the world can be seen and understood more clearly.

Insofar as art carries out these four functions, I believe it is valuable within the church. Granted, not all art does in fact carry out these functions. There is certainly art around us that deadens our affections, perverts our sense of beauty, glorifies the mundane, and skews our interpretation of reality. But when good, wholesome art is produced with skill and enjoyed with discernment, the people of God are built up and the church of God is enriched.

The conclusion that I draw, therefore is this: So long as art functions to sharpen our affections, awaken us to beauty, transcend the mundane, and help us interpret reality, it must be considered a worthwhile enterprise. But if art ever becomes an end in itself, or if it ever becomes something to be enjoyed for our own selfish pleasure, ambition, or entertainment, then we must consider it an enemy of the gospel and a hindrance to the work of the church. This does not mean that the only art we produce and enjoy must be explicitly religious art. Indeed, there is much valuable art that is not necessarily “Christian” in nature. But it does mean that we need to be conscious of the fact that, in its proper place, art must act as a servant to the gospel.

So if it distracts us from the grace of God in Christ, then art must be avoided. But if it deepens our appreciation for the gospel, then art should be celebrated, shared, and enjoyed. “Onward and upward!” That is the great clarion call of all art that is enjoyed for the glory of God, for it leads us ever deeper into the wonders of Him who truly is most wonderful.

 

Universal Healthcare: Revisited

As many will be aware, I recently wrote a piece in defense of universal healthcare. Given the responses that I received (most of them negative), I thought it would be appropriate to clarify my argument and offer some personal reflections on the matter. Hopefully my critics will find this helpful in understanding my point of view and critiquing my position.

So first of all, let me take a brief moment to have another look at the argument I was proposing with regards to the merits of universal healthcare. In all honesty, it was a remarkably simple point that I was trying to make, namely that Christians should desire to see all people have access to decent healthcare. Scripture makes it painfully clear that God loves the poor and expects us to do the same. So if we are going to identify ourselves with Jesus Christ, then we must be people who love the poor and make real, tangible efforts to see their quality of life improved. One of the ways (among many) that we can do this is through the means of healthcare. By giving our poorest neighbors the opportunity to go to the hospital when suffering from a disease, we follow the example of Jesus, who compassionately healed multitudes of sick, poverty-stricken ragamuffins lying on the streets waiting to die. It’s not rocket science or top-tier theology. It’s simple and straightforward Christian obedience.

Furthermore (as I stated at least two or three times throughout the article) I was not writing to defend the legislation which is now working its way through Washington. Looking back on my argument, I am utterly amazed that such a point could be missed. Not one time did I suggest that I supported President Obama’s healthcare plan. In fact, I explicitly stated that the current plan might very well be flawed, in which case it should be opposed. Once again, my intention was simply to apply the tremendously clear teaching of Scripture to a situation which is particularly relevant to Americans right now. That is all. If I knew a way to make it any clearer, I would certainly do it.

But enough review. What I want to do now is offer a pair of axioms for thinking about contemporary political issues such as universal healthcare. These are two principles which I try to apply in my own thought processes (although I am prone to fail), and ones which I think are at least somewhat helpful to employ when thinking about current events and public policy.

1. One’s theology should never be influenced by one’s politics. If I may be a bit presumptuous, let me suggest that one of the reasons we tend to freak out when we encounter a defense of something like universal healthcare is because we have allowed our theology to be shaped by a certain brand of political conviction. This happens on both sides of the spectrum. For example, many political liberals have a warped theology of the family because their political convictions about abortion and (so-called) gay marriage have polluted their understanding of Scripture. Their politics spoils their theology. And for this very same reason, many political conservatives have an anemic understanding of Christian mercy because they have such strong political hatred of welfare, socialism, or universal healthcare. Their theological convictions are altered and defiled by their fervor for a certain political platform.

Brothers, this should not be! No matter how strongly we believe in a certain set of political convictions, we must always allow these convictions to be informed by a faithful, humble reading of Scripture. Therefore, when we read a simple argument in defense of Christian mercy to the poor, our immediate response should not be to point out the errors of government-operated universal healthcare or to condemn the efforts of our elected Democratic president. On the contrary, I would hope that our immediate response would be, “Amen! Let it be so! May we all feel the burden of our neighbor’s poverty and strive to show him mercy!” We cannot turn our backs on social justice simply because social justice is something the Democrats like to talk about.

2. One’s convictions should be informed by honest reason and verifiable facts. I was greatly encouraged to read at least one response to my article (received via personal e-mail) which contained a reasonable defense of a well thought-out position and tangible resources where more information could be gained. (Incidentally, this particular position was in defense of government healthcare, a fact which I suppose is not of extraordinary relevance at the moment.) But that particular response typified the kind of arguments that we as Christians (or simply we as rational beings) should be making, i.e. ones which are well-reasoned responses to concrete facts. Unfortunately, however, this is the kind of argument that we often avoid (because, after all, it involves research, hard work, and tracking down more information than can be attained merely by listening to Rush Limbaugh or Al Franken).

The primary reason I refrained from passing judgment on the current healthcare legislation, therefore, is because I have not uncovered enough facts about it. The majority of my current knowledge amounts to hearsay, and hearsay makes a rather lousy justification for serious belief. “I hate Obama; therefore his healthcare plan is bad” is not an especially strong argument, and that is why I choose to avoid it. But at this point, given the information and resources that I have, I simply don’t have much more to offer. Biblical facts and honest reason have convinced me that caring for the poor is a vital part of Christian ministry. But my ignorance of the subtleties and nuances in the fields of healthcare, economics, and federal government prevent me from taking a more specific stance than that.

I sincerely hope these remarks clarify things somewhat, especially for those who were concerned with my point of view. Ultimately at the heart of the matter, what I see is not a political issue but a theological one. So if anyone wishes to disagree with my argument (which they are more than welcome to do), let it be understood that they are disagreeing with the theological assertion that Christians should help the poor, not with the political assertion that Obama’s healthcare plan is a meritorious piece of legislation.

And that’s all I have to say about that. I now remember why I hate writing about anything that is even remotely political.

 

Why Universal Healthcare Is Unequivocally Good

Apparently, there is at the moment a highly controversial piece of legislation working its way through the United States Congress, which (if enacted) would significantly alter the country’s healthcare system. I must confess, however, that I have neither read this bill, nor have I formed any definite opinions about it (precisely because I haven’t read it). In fact, I’m actually quite indifferent about the whole thing. Needless to say, anyone anticipating me to launch into a political tirade will be disappointed. I am far too indifferent to lash out either in support of or in opposition to this proposed healthcare reform. Granted, it is probably true that as a voting American I should be more concerned about the matter than I am, but honestly I don’t think President Obama will be calling me to ask my opinion, anyway. My lack of concern, therefore, seems at least somewhat justified.

But despite my indifference regarding the present legislation, I nevertheless find myself being rather interested in the subject of universal healthcare—at least in the abstract. And the more I contemplate universal healthcare in light of the Christian faith, the more convinced I become that universal healthcare is far from the evil, ruinous disaster that many conservative pundits, professing Christians, and concerned capitalists make it out to be.

What follows, therefore, are two gigantic reasons why I believe universal healthcare to be a noble (and very biblical) endeavor. Now once again—and I labor this point on purpose—this is not meant to be a judgment about the government’s proposed approach to universal healthcare that has been dominating the news recently. Whether that is an effective method or not is a conversation I’m not qualified to have. What I do wish to do, however, is show why Christians should embrace (or at least learn not to fear) the notion of universal healthcare. We should desire to see medical care extended to all people, and here are some biblical reasons why:

1. God is a defender of the poor. This is a theme which appears throughout Scripture, particularly in the Old Testament. We read that the covenant God of Israel is a stronghold to the poor (Isa. 25:4), one who will not forsake the poor and needy (Isa. 41:17), one who blesses those who consider the poor (Ps. 41:1), one who raises the poor up from the dust (Ps. 113:7), one who is opposed to those that oppress the poor (Amos 5:11), and one who promises that the poor will not perish forever (Ps. 9:18). We cannot read our Bibles faithfully without coming to the realization that God cares about those whose lack of money prohibits them from having access to even life’s most basic necessities.

If, therefore, our God is such an advocate of the poverty-stricken among us, then we must strive to be similarly disposed. We should reflect God’s character in that when we see someone unable to afford a thing such as healthcare, we are filled with compassion rather than disdain. I fear that far too many of our “Christian” beliefs when it comes to social and political issues have been shaped by capitalistic presuppositions, rather than sound biblical theology. We look at poor people and say it’s their own fault if they can’t afford healthcare. Maybe they just need to work a little harder or get a second job—that is, after all, the American way.

But although it may be the American way, it is not the biblical way. God does not look at poor people and tell them to get their act together. He looks at poor people and takes pity on them. He defends their cause and comes to their rescue—even though they are undeserving. We must do likewise. We must stand up for the poor and defend their cause. Those whose financial shortcomings bar them from having healthcare should be met with mercy and compassion by those who are more prosperous and financially secure.

2. Jesus commands his followers to care for the poor. I find myself continually amazed at the amount of space the Gospel writers devote to the teachings of Jesus about wealth and generosity. This almost certainly reflects the fact that Jesus himself spent a great deal of time confronting the wealthy, comforting the poor, and establishing a foundation for his disciples with regard to the way we think about money. In the Gospel of Luke alone we see this with tremendous clarity. Jesus says that he came to declare good news to the poor (4:18), he blesses the poor (6:20), he commands others to invite the poor to their banquets (14:13), he exposes Pharisaical disdain for the poor (16:19-31), and he even advocates selling one’s possessions and giving to the poor (18:22). His own ministry reflected this, as he constantly reached out to the lowest of the lower class and the poorest of the poor.

The question then is obvious: as followers of Christ, how can we turn our backs on those in need? To extend healthcare to all our neighbors will certainly be costly, but costly discipleship is precisely what Jesus demands. If it is within our power, we should rejoice at the opportunity to sacrifice in order to help out those whose needs are much greater than our own.

As Christians, we should be entirely supportive of effective methods for extending universal healthcare to all people—even those who can’t afford it. Upon close examination it may turn out that the current administration’s proposal for achieving this end is flawed and ineffective, in which case we can legitimately oppose it. Or, it may turn out that this is an issue that the government shouldn’t be involved in at all. But in neither case are we given the freedom to oppose universal healthcare in principle.

We of all people should be most concerned about the poor and most willing to sacrifice our own material comforts in order to improve their quality of life. This is nothing more than what Jesus asks of us. So as let’s exercise all our creative energies to explore ways in which we can empower our churches to develop ministries to those without healthcare and without the means to acquire it. By caring for the poor in this manner, we will reflect the character of God and obey the commands of our Savior.

 

The Rare Discipline of Christian Mourning

There are many things in this world which break my heart.

Divorce breaks my heart; I cringe to see the covenant union between husband and wife wither and die because of the destructive power of sin. Abortion breaks my heart; I cannot even wrap my head around the thought of babies being killed within the wombs of their own mothers. Sexual abuse breaks my heart; to consider all the young girls and women who have been defiled by the perverse actions of others is a painfully difficult thing to do. Hunger breaks my heart; while I get sick from eating too much, others die for lack of food. Orphans break my heart; far too many children will live and die having never known a mother’s love and a father’s protection. War breaks my heart; I hate the fact that countries so often settle their differences at the expense of human lives. And global spiritual darkness breaks my heart; all around the earth, millions of people are worshiping false gods and practicing false religions, entirely blinded to the light of the gospel of the glory of Jesus Christ.

But the one reality that perhaps breaks my heart more than any of these other things is a church which manages to remain jovial and light-hearted in the midst of it all. While women are being raped, orphans are being abandoned, and children are dying of hunger, an untold number of churches gather together to revel in the frivolity of a shallow, self-serving Christianity. Their foyers have been filled with cheerful smiles and happy faces, their pulpits have been overrun by pithy jokes and charming stories, and their ministries have evolved into meaningless pursuits to help each other find fulfillment and personal victory. (And, by the way, if you don’t think such churches exist, then it’s probably a good indicator that you’re in one.)

It only takes a minimal amount of common sense to realize that our world is not as it should be. But it takes even less common sense to realize that it’s an abomination for the church to be idling away merrily in the midst of such tremendous amounts of pain, suffering, and evil. Yes, the gospel calls us to live lives of joy. But part of joyfully delighting oneself in God is honestly mourning over what grieves him.

Yet this, I fear, is a discipline that many of us have lost. We do not know how to mourn and grieve for the rampant sin, injustice, and spiritual darkness by which we are surrounded. All we really know how to do is condescendingly hurl stones of judgment upon those who are involved in such things. And we do so out of a spirit of vindictiveness, not out of a spirit of true, godly sorrow. We’re too busy laughing at this week’s joke-filled, video-clip-laden, light-hearted sermon to take time to mourn.

All of this was made vivid in my mind recently while praying with my wife as I listened to her petition God to end abortion. I considered her response to the horror of abortion (i.e. grief-filled, passionate prayer) and contrasted it to so many other “Christian” responses to abortion that we see so frequently (i.e. political activism, bumper stickers, etc.). Now whether or not political activism and bumper stickers are effective forms of gospel ministry is not my concern right now. What is my concern, however, is how quickly we run to such things without experiencing true Christian grief.

This made me wonder: how different would our churches be if pastors made it a point to lead their people to mourn for the condition of the world? Rather than trying to placate their appetites for entertainment, what if church leaders taught their congregations how to know and experience grief? What if we stopped laughing—just for a second—and took the time to cry?

The things that make us upset say a lot about us. When, therefore, we get riled up about things like economic downturns, Democrats in office, or expensive gasoline, then it betrays just how materialistic and short-sighted we are. But when we are led to grieve by things such as the destruction of divorce, the prevalence of orphans, or the widespread ignorance of the gospel, then it shows that we are people whose allegiance resides with the Kingdom of God. It shows that we desire the things God desires and we are grieved by the things that cause God to grieve.

And the glorious thing about Christian mourning is that it will inevitably lead to Christian action. No church which truly mourns the spiritual darkness of our world will be apathetic about missions. No church which truly mourns sexual abuse will be hesitant to reach out to those who are hurting and make a difference in their community. No church which truly mourns global hunger will continue hoarding and saving material comforts. In short, no church which truly mourns will fail to carry out radical gospel ministry.

Now to be clear, this does not mean that we must become gloomy, pale-faced pessimists who wander the streets in sackcloth and ash. It does, however, mean that we open our eyes to consider the plight of the world outside our own petty concerns, and to allow ourselves to be emotionally affected by what we see.

If we are never gripped by the magnitude of sin and suffering around us, then we will never be convinced of the relevance of the gospel. We live in a tremendously maimed and wounded world. But we have a magnificently powerful and redemptive gospel. Let us, therefore, learn to mourn with heavy hearts so that we can go out and proclaim salvation with hopeful hearts.

 

A Feminist’s Manifesto

I am—unashamedly and undeniably—a feminist. And this is what I believe.

I believe that women are endowed with the greatest of all earthly honors: the image of God himself. In his sovereign goodness, the Creator has bestowed upon every single woman the tremendous privilege (and the tremendous responsibility) of bearing the image of her Creator. Women are not the fortunate beneficiaries of mindless evolutionary force; they are the intricate craftsmanship of a personal God. The Creator has invested into each woman a full measure of his very own imagination and artistry, and for this we should honor each woman and celebrate the God who created them.

I believe that women were created for men and men were created for women. From the very beginning, God created two sexes in order that they might be joined to one another in the covenant of marriage. Because of this, both male and female possess a natural sense of dependency upon the other. This is not a defect in their Creator’s design; rather, it is a central part of his wise plan. He did not create men to be superior to women, nor did he create women to be superior to men. Each one looks to the other with the ultimate goal of being joined together in a life-long relationship of marriage.

I believe that bearing children is distinct and solemn privilege for women. Every human being has a mother, and every mother is a testament to the uniquely feminine wonder of childbirth. It is neither a curse nor a nuisance to carry a developing human being for nine months within one’s womb and then selflessly to deliver that child into the world. Although there is much pain involved in the process, this is a result of sin and not a part of the originally created order. To bear children is to know a joy that no man can ever experience and to partake directly in the mysterious miracle of creation. And even for those women who, in God’s providence, are unable to bear biological children, the opportunity to adopt presents a whole new set of uniquely feminine privileges. After all, any woman who chooses to set her affections upon an orphaned or abandoned child shows depths of motherly love that can hardly be imagined. So whether it is through “biological” birth or “adoptive” birth, the process remains one that is as dignified as it is feminine.

I believe that women encounter no context which requires a more courageous and noble character than that of motherhood. To carry out the responsibilities of motherhood is to count oneself among the giants of this world—the heroines whose valiant achievements change the course of history. It is no small matter to raise a child, and all other pursuits with which a woman might concern herself pale in comparison. A woman may be a successful doctor, lawyer, or businesswoman, but nowhere does the glory of her femininity shine more brightly than in the home where she cares for her children and nurtures them with love. A thousand professional opportunities will never rival the overwhelming importance of mothering a child.

I believe that women, in the context of marriage, are a visible representation of the church of Jesus Christ. This fact alone confirms the solemnly precious nature of femininity. Women are to be disparaged only insofar as Christ disparages his church. If Christ ever neglects the interests of his people, then it will be appropriate for men to neglect the interests of women.

Therefore, I believe that women are to be loved, honored, cherished, and cared for by their husbands. Any man who disrespects, belittles, or scorns his wife proves that he is ignorant of the inherent honor of femininity. For a husband to love as Christ loves the church is to love at great personal cost, with a constant desire to bring about the well-being of the beloved. As a representation of the church, each wife deserves more affection, care, sacrifice, and protection than any man can possibly offer. Jesus Christ has known no limits in showing love to the church. Husbands should strive to do similarly for their wives.

Furthermore, I believe that men should do all they can to preserve the dignity of femininity. This cannot be done by sexual liberation, vocational liberation, or any other form of social liberation of which we might conceive. In order to preserve the dignity and honor of femininity, men must celebrate their wives, love their wives, honor their wives, and sacrifice for their wives. They must recognize that the responsibilities of childbirth and motherhood command the respect and awe of the world. They must encourage their children to rejoice gratefully in the sacrifice of their mothers, and they must encourage other husbands to honor humbly the magnanimity of their wives. The true wonder of femininity cannot be reclaimed by encouraging women to forsake the very things that make them feminine in order to engage in (supposedly) more lofty pursuits. On the contrary, it must be reclaimed by honoring, cherishing, and celebrating those things which are wonderfully and uniquely feminine.

I am a feminist, and these are the things I believe.