The spiritual gift of art

Why it’s important in the service of God.

How important is art to the Christian church? Is artistic expression a spiritual exercise, or is it merely a reflection of worldliness? Is the person who has a career in sculpting or painting, in dramatic performance or composition or building, neglecting the work of the kingdom?

There are no artists in the roster of church workers in Romans 12, nor is art found in the list of spiritual gifts in 1 Corinthians 12. But when God spoke to Moses about enlisting his people for the building of the tabernacle, he called for artists and craftspeople.

Moreover, it appears that God had done some preparatory work in the hearts of these people, for he said: “See, I have chosen Bezalel son of Uri . . . and I have filled him with the Spirit of God, with wisdom, with understanding, with knowledge and with all kinds of skills – to make artistic designs for work in gold, silver and bronze, to cut and set stones, to work in wood, and to engage in all kinds of crafts. . . . Also I have given ability to all the skilled workers to make everything I have commanded you” (Exodus 31:2–6). The passage implies that God expected beauty and excellence in the construction of his holy place.

Women too were called: “Every skilled woman spun with her hands and brought what she had spun – blue, purple or scarlet yarn or fine linen. And all the women who were willing and had the skill spun the goat hair” (Exodus 35:25–26).

Artistry is important in the service of God. This is implied when the psalmist called God’s people to praise him with the trumpet, harp, lyre, tambourine, strings, flute, cymbals, and dancing (Psalm 150:3–5). The poetry of Psalms has, moreover, many examples of the Word given in beauty. The rhythms created by parallel structure and the pictorial images found in the lines appeal to the aesthetic sense; the melding of thought and sound delights the mind and opens it to the praise of God.

Some of us may be disappointed that art is not mentioned among the spiritual gifts listed in the New Testament, but we must recognize that the list is a relatively short one and is surely not exhaustive. The gifts mentioned in 1 Corinthians, for example, are basic to a young, persecuted church, one perhaps more in need of finding its feet than its wings. And although the New Testament does not explicitly call for artists to build Christ’s church, it must be admitted that artistry is present in its allegory, story, poetry, and epistle.

Non-biblical works, both ancient and modern, can also serve a spiritual end. To read great poetry and prose is to be deeply moved and often transformed; to contemplate a Rembrandt painting is to be filled with awe, as though standing on holy ground. In Walking on Water, Madeleine L’Engle describes the arts as an open window through which we can be given a new glimpse of the love of God. The St. Matthew Passion is for her a door into the realm of the numinous.

But the engendering of awe and ecstasy is not ensured; it is not a given. Art, if it is to be used in the service of God, must be exercised within the context of love.

Art is informed by love

After the apostle Paul speaks of the spiritual gifts of teaching, preaching, interpreting, and working of miracles (1 Corinthians 12), he says, “And yet I will show you the most excellent way.” What follows is the chapter on the greatest gift of all – the one that stands above and informs all others. It teaches us the manner of exercising all our gifts.

Within the womb of love all other gifts are brought to life and nurtured. In the excitement of creating, striving for excellence, and urging others toward it, we must above all be loving – that is, patient, kind, not seeking personal gain. And it is noteworthy that this discourse on love is given the form of poetry.

Art is a search for truth

The poetic maxim, “beauty is truth,” is easier to accept than its converse, “truth is beauty.” There is a kind of truth in the formative nature of beauty, in its power to effect psychic wholeness. It appeals more to the feeling and intuitive functions of the mind than to the thinking function, to those aspects of the psyche that we tend to neglect, particularly in our educational systems. In exercising these functions we foster their growth and become more conscious and sensitive.

But “truth” is also “beauty.” A work of art may make a hard truth more attractive and compelling than something presented in a prosaic way. A dramatic production, for example, through story and enactment, may capture attention and imagination and effect a change in the audience. Sometimes, if the work is a great one, people are transformed. And all of this while being entertained, rather than confronted. Art is more disarming and gentle than lecture or rhetoric.

If beauty is to be true, however, it must include more than that which is attractive or comely. Deep art moves beneath the surface of things, revealing both light and shadow or darkness. During our teenage years, many of us read novels (I use the term loosely) from our church libraries that presented the Christian life full of romance and material prosperity. But reality teaches that Christians often experience suffering and deprivation, so our art must acknowledge this. Truth in art, as in life itself, is seeing life steadily and seeing it whole.

It should also be said that although the words “darkness” and “evil” are often used interchangeably, they are not synonymous. “Darkness” can also refer to the “valley of the shadow” the psalmist talks about: suffering, bereavement, and the prospect of death. Art that is truthful must not avoid the fact that life is struggle, sometimes a struggle too deep for words.

I once attended a Mennonite church service in Germany with a person who was a new Christian. We sang a number of lighthearted choruses that disturbed her because she was then in the process of discovering the cost of following Christ in a fallen world. When we left the service, she expressed her intense frustration by saying, “It is a lie. It is a lie!” The songs had floated on the surface of her life but avoided its depths, where a spiritual battle was raging. Truth in song and poetry must be true to life and include both joy and sorrow, peace and struggle. In this, the psalmist shows us the way: “You, Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light” (Psalm 18:28).

Art is communication

Art is not necessarily committed to a clear and unequivocal meaning; it is ambiguous. Those who believe a spade should in all times and places be called a spade are often frustrated by the ambiguity and tempted to discount art altogether. But ambiguity in art, while it may appear exclusive, is really inclusive in that it encourages involvement and contemplation by participants and credits them with imagination and discernment.

This should not influence artists to value the obscure over the more readily accessible work. They must not forget that what has taken them years to appreciate will probably take an audience member just as long. And the audience must be a primary consideration in any public presentation. A brief introduction can often put people on a track that will lead them towards insight and understanding.

Artists working within the context of the church need a high degree of sensitivity. Madeleine L’Engle, a fine artist and a very wise woman, said, “Art is communication, and if there is no communication it is as though the work had been stillborn.”

“What joy to the artist who sees shining forth in every creature the resplendent light of the Creator,” said Pope Pius XII in an address in 1948. “How noble the mission of the artist who helps the less sensitive, the less gifted, to see and appreciate the natural beauty of the humblest things and through them the beauty of God.”

This is indeed a high calling. May we hear and heed that call with joy.

Esther Wiens is retired from a teaching career at the former Mennonite Brethren Bible College, Winnipeg, and Canadian Bible College, Regina. She has an MA in English and a PhD in Theatre and Interpretation. She lives in Regina, where she attends First Baptist Church. This article first appeared in Sophia, fall 1994.